


Magical Diary: The Oracle

by Loxxi (ShuckinBeanz)



Series: Temp Series Name-The Oracle [2]
Category: Magical Diary
Genre: All Kinds of Magic, Demons, F/M, Forbidden Magic, Incubus/mashochistic Damien, MC has one or more 'fetish', MC reacts to chapter summaries(for reader amusement), One-Sided Attraction, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Slavery, abusive step-mother, ex-delinquent MC, mysterious mother, past sexual harrassment, slow build/slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2018-10-23 06:50:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 80,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10714386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShuckinBeanz/pseuds/Loxxi
Summary: Young girl: Meet Amira Fatima, and join her journey into becoming what she is destined to be.Dark past: From day one of her life, everything went bad, but that won't stop her dreams.New life: She's determined to change, but there's many obstacles-and perhaps the love of her life-in her way. Can she stay strong?Changed to Explicit.Currently: Abuse, language, sexual harrassment, slavery, and adding.(A/N: I've redid the tags because one: it's not quite there yet and two: I wasn't happy with them anymore. But worry not, though not in the tags-for now-there's still Teacher-Student. I just changed it to one-sided attraction because that made more sense to me at this point in the story lol)Also, new chappie. :D 'Chapter 18: Weather the Storm'





	1. This time..a new life.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of Amira's Freshman year, marking a good change. Or so she thought. She gets scolded by a Professor, who has a rather mind melting voice-on the first day, creating an obstacle to her venture in becoming a normal girl, free of delinquency.  
> Her cussing could use some more work, though.  
> "I can't fucking help it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to be unique with this story by making our precious PC an ex-delinquent with a...'unique' family, to put it nicely, but not everything is peachy unicorns like that-she has a very dark past. I'll try to explain everything in the story. :P But if you're not into past domestic violence or anything like that, then please don't read. But I will pitch in that she'll get a better life. :D
> 
> Oh, and if it means somethin'; Amira is technically half human-she's way more like her real mum. xD She IS a wildseed. I'll explain later in the story.
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

After loading my suitcases, my father and I got into his flimsy looking old van and he starts the long drive. He's always loved this thing. I don't know why, because he'd never tell me. I stare at the scenery as we pass by, and I give a small smile. _This time..._

Everything started three years ago. Well, not _everything,_ but everything up until now. That counts, right? I was thirteen, and it was my birthday. As usual, I had to spend it alone, because Dad was busy with work and my step-mom was out drinking and doing God knows what else. I was heading out to meet with a few friends that night but some junior high school punks decided to harass me into 'having fun' with them, the horny assholes. I tried to _calmly_ deal with them, but they just would not stop. One decided to _grope my ass_ and the other two just fucking laughed like it was _cool_ - _why the fuck did I have the boobs, height and face of a 16-17-year-old, again? Oh yeah, because I was born like that_ -and all I could see was a red tunnel. I vaguely remember giving the asshole an uppercut, then pouncing him-the rest is a blank slate. I woke up the next day to a complaint call from one of my friends about ditching the promise the last night, and an argument ensued. But here comes the worst part.

_I notice the scenery start to change._

My step-mom came home in a drunken rage that morning, screaming at me about severely fracturing some kid's jaw-and of course, since I don't remember shit about it, I denied her accusations. Then she proceeded to beat me.

...do I really need to get into the details of that? I don't want to. Later in the afternoon, I was still in my room. But something really weird happened-I felt a presence waft into my room-and being broken and bruised, I didn't care to look who it was. But I vividly remember everything that was said. I remember his voice, too. It was a smooth, and somehow soft sounding baritone, with a rather rich sounding British accent.

 _"Little girl,"_ he'd said, smoothly. _"are you doing alright?"_ I choked back a sob, feeling the tears well up again, and I heard him hum in thought. _"What is your name?"_ he'd asked softly, and somehow I felt deeply inclined to answer him. " _Amira."_ So I did. _"Oh?"_ He sounded amused. _"Fatima?"_ I nodded my affirmation. _"I know about you."_ An oddly soothing feeling washed over me, and I can feel myself relax. _"Your a rather interesting girl, and I fail to see why they chose to put you off until now."_ I closed my eyes, already feeling the tears dry. _"And seeing as I am conveniently on business in this location, I've decided to deliver to you..."_ He placed his hand on the back of my head-it felt like he was wearing a lot of rings-and then I no longer felt the pain from earlier in the day. _"The Choice."_ His hand left my head, and I felt strangely alert. _"You have potential to become a great witch. Should you accept this as your future, you will be assigned to a school in three years time and taught to control your magic, and perhaps, increase it in great volumes. However, if you decline..."_ His voice was serious, and I was listening intently. _"...there would be rather..."_ he'd paused, and my mind was racing. _"_ _...unfortunate consequences."_ I heard him whisper, but I was happy. Magic? Me, a witch? That would explain the occasional odd events that'd happen to me-around me. So I answered, _"I accept."_ and he replied, _"Good."_

So many things went through my head, too many things, and I got lost in my head-forgetting something important. I'd jumped up happily to ask him, _"Who are-"_ but he was gone. Tons of things had happened since then, but I still remember. Clear as day. As I'm pondering for the umpteenth time just who he could have been, I hear my dad snap me out of my thoughts. "We're here. At the outskirts, just like you asked." I grinned like a fool, "Thanks, Dad." gave him a hug, and he laughed before patting my back. "No problem, Tootsie." I released him and snorted, rolling my eyes at his fond nickname, before hopping out and unloading my stuff. "Later, Dad." I closed the door as he gave a salute, and I turned around and began my trek up to where I'll be living from here on out. Awhile later as I come up to it, I can't help but think it looks more like a luxurious boarding school for pompous rich kids than somewhere for learning wizards and witches to live.

The buildings are pretty, there's lots of trees, and wide, open spaces. It's not quite Fall yet, because the leaves have yet to turn. I speed up my steps because I'm starting to feel hot in this uniform. As I stride through the entrance, I am greeted by a breathtaking sight; many colorful flowerbeds, and several arches surround me-I _almost_ halt my steps in awe. There are three halls on one side, and judging from all the girlish window stickers and curtains dotting about the many windows, it must be the girls' side, because the three halls on the other side look rather plain-save for the occasional band and anime posters peeking through the windows. I look back to the girls' side and begin to make my way there, and I can't remember where the Horse Hall is, so I eye the suitcase behind me, trying to remember where I put the directions. By the way, Horse Hall is meant for the more 'adventurous' girls, whatever the hell that means. Suddenly, I clash shoulders with someone, and I jerk my head up to see an older man with the same robes. Except he didn't have a Hall symbol. _Which means he's a Professor. Fuck._ "Um." I strangle out, "I'm sorry, sir?" I laugh nervously and he glowers. _Not good. This is a bad first impression._ "A new student, I see. And what might your name be?" His face turned to a sneer, and I knit my brows worriedly-and I can't help but notice that _British_ accent. It was dark, lovely, and refined. "Um.." I say stupidly, remembering my past experience with a Brit-man, but this one..

He rose his brow at me, and I realize I'm staring. I flush, "Amira Fatima, sir. I'm new here, and-" he opens the large book he's carrying, and I trail off as he pages through it. "Miss...Fatima? Wildseed." I blink at him as he writes something before he slams the book shut, tucking it back under his arm, "How unsurprising." he says in a slightly condescending tone, pissing me off. And before I can speak, he adds, "More than likely, a complete waste of my time." I begin to sputter, but he ignores me, and continues, "You have no idea how much you have been given, but you will throw it all away." before sighing in exasperation. "Ten demerits." he says, leaving no room for argument. "Not a promising start. Do pay more attention to your studies than you do to where you are going, or you'll quickly find yourself expelled from this academy before the new year." he gives me that sneer before he turns, his cape giving a whoosh, strutting away, leaving me in outrage. Awhile later I register what the hell just happened-and seeing as he's far off by now, _and_ he's a Professor, I can't exactly hunt him down. So, I stomp my foot several times, holding my breath to keep from screaming in compromise-stopping to release my breath when I can't breathe anymore, calming down. I begin my search for my Hall on the girls' side.

After a while of looking, I finally found it. There's nine doors in this one, one door labeled 'bathroom'. I hope that's a huge bathroom if every room has at least two girls each. The letter informed me I'd be placed with two girls, but it had left out names. And, I haven't seen anyone with my Hall's symbol, yet. I head to my room, Room 3, because all I can do is wait for them to show. Still holding onto my suitcases, I take a deep breath before I fumble open the door to an ordinary room. For some reason, I hadn't been expecting that, and I let out a 'Huh.' before shrugging it off. I see a girl stand up from her place on a bed-I didn't notice her. "Um..hello?" she addresses me, confused. I see the symbol on someone else for the first time, "Your a Horse!" but then I realized it sounded...just...wrong. "Um, I didn't mean it the way it sounded." I apologized, before grinning. "I'm Amira. You must be my roommate?" I ask. "One of them." she smiled, "That's Virginia's bed," pointed to the blue one, before continuing, "but she went out to talk to somebody." I finally close the door behind me, after stepping inside. "Nice to meet you, mind if I ask where you're from?" I asked, and she giggled. "Virginia-the state, I mean. I'm not sure where Virginia-the-girl is from." she said, but I tilt my head in confusion. "But you don't have a southern accent..?" I thought out loud, and she giggled a little louder-probably because of my expression. "It's not that far south, and my family wasn't from there." she answered before asking, "Where are you from?" and I reply I little too quickly. "New Hampshire. Ain't too far from here." I try to change the subject, looking over at her desk.

"All those books yours?" I ask. "Yeah." she glances away. "There aren't any computers here, so I brought my old encyclopedias." she says before motioning to a shelf. "And those are textbooks for the classes I would be taking this year at my other school if I hadn't left." I decide not to ask. "You must be a really good student." I say, but she shrugs. "Not really. I probably won't even open them. But I didn't know what I'd need, and I didn't want to need something and not have it." she said. "Those books are everything I could find out about magic, the real kind, now that I know it's real." I can't help the grin. I got excited at the mention of _magic_. "Yeah, isn't it awesome? We're gonna be witches! Just like in the movies!" I give an excited squeal, and this time, she actually laughs. "Oh, good. You're a wildseed, too." she smiled. "What does wildseed mean anyway?" I frown thoughtfully, and a voice from behind me answers my question. "It means your parents weren't magic, so you're like a wildflower." I turn around, and she offers a handshake with a grin. "Me, my family's all magical, so I always knew I'd be a witch. I'm Virginia." I take her hand and notice she has a strong grip. "Amira." I said, releasing her hand. "Pleasure to meet'cha." and she did the same.

"Is it a problem?" I feel my arms falling asleep, so I go ahead and put my things down. "Being a wildseed, I mean." I ask Virginia. "I, uh..kinda bumped into a Professor, and he decided to be rude about it." I say, sheepishly. "A Professor?" she hummed thoughtfully, "Shaggy black hair, big nose?" then asked. _I'm not sure about the nose, but.._ "Um...yeah..?" I say hesitantly, and she cackled. "Oh, no! Now you'll be on Grabby's blacklist!" I couldn't help but feel a bit miffed that she found amusement in that. "The Professor grabs girls?" Ellen gasps. "No, that's his name. Professor Grabiner." Virginia clears her misunderstanding. _Ten demerits on my first day..._ "He hates me." I sigh. "He hates _everybody,_ " Virginia says dramatically, "so it doesn't make much difference." _Oh. Now I feel kinda stupid for worrying._ "Don't worry about it. Nobody cares if your a born witch or not, not really. And everybody's scared of Grabby, he's a monster. William warned me about him." Virginia says, and I can't help but ask. "Who's William?" so I do. "My big brother-" Virginia says, but corrects herself. "-bigger brother. He's a senior. Donald's a freshman, like us. They're in Wolf Hall." she informs, before getting excited. "But enough about boys! What sports do you play? What do you like?" she asks me and Ellen. "I like softball, but I'm better at volleyball." Ellen pitches in. "Good strong arms. Me, I prefer soccer. What about you, Amira?" Virginia asks me. "Track. Definitely track. I love to run." I say. "Your legs, her arms, and my fighting spirit. We're the total package! Go Horses!" Virginia whoops.

"Are there sports teams for wizards here?" Ellen asks, and quite frankly, I'm curious, too. "Not exactly. There's bounders, but that's not a real sport." Virginia frowns. "But there _is_ a gym, and we can _start_ our own sports teams if we have to! Right, Amira?" she grins mischievously. Though I love running, I kinda don't want to do it all the time. "Um...I guess?" I answer, unsure. "Sorry, sorry, I'm rolling you over aren't I? I'll let you unpack." Virginia apologizes, before looking to Ellen. "C'mon, Ellen. I'll introduce you to my brothers." and Ellen obviously wasn't expecting the invite. "Huh? Okay.." Ellen decides to follow along, anyway. "Oh, well, I'll be staying to unpack. See you later." I say, and they leave-but Virginia stops really quick. "Don't forget, Amira, orientation is tomorrow, and you'll get to see old Grabby again!" she laughs before ushering Ellen out with her. "Great." I sigh. I start unpacking my stuff, and putting them away, because everything here moves rather quickly. I don't wanna get left behind.

_Tomorrow...I start learning magic!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before questions are asked along the lines of 'why doesn't her dad divorce her stepmother' is because he is away days on end-and she heals faster than the average person. I'll leave the rest up to you. :P


	2. First Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Furry characters turned into real life, pink-haired glittering human-sized fairies, and not to mention, vampires. This school has it all.  
> "Don't forget the fucking blue-skinned purple pretty boys with wings that can fucking move."  
> After Orientation, Amira goes for what is most tantalizing to her. Blue Magic. She also tries to cram, and fails.  
> "I wasn't born yesterday, asshole!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hell to write. And read. And fix mistakes. And reread. And fix more mistakes. And repeat. xD A whopping 4,410 words, enjoy! :D
> 
> I'm using both options on Damien's greet event because this is a fanfic, so why not, and it fits Amira's personality. :D
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, and suffice to say, I was completely out by night. When morning came, I was shaken awake and when I saw what time it was, I threw my cape and robes on, and Virginia and Ellen were right behind me. Thankfully, we weren't late.

It was September 2nd, Monday, 9 AM in the morning. All freshmen were gathered in the gymnasium, wearing robes and capes, much like me. A fair amount of students didn't look human. One guy had ears and a fluffy long tail, and when it twitched, I instinctively jumped. _It fucking moved._ My eyes wandered to a girl with pink hair, and _are those fucking fairy wings?_ I knitted my brows, looking forward, too much information for my brain to process-but a ways in front of me was a girl with long raven hair. _She looks like a fucking vampire._ Is this what it means to be a born witch? Wizard? Virginia looks normal, but she could be hiding something under those robes. I couldn't help but shudder. _Just fucking peachy._

All sounds are halted as someone went on stage, including my racing thoughts. "Hello, my little flower buds." the woman sang, "Welcome to Iris Academy!" then welcomed us. _She seems normal._ I start to clap, but I slowly halt when nobody else does, feeling my blood run cold in humiliation. Then Virginia picks it up, loudly, unashamed, pitching in a few cheers, and soon, the whole room was full of applause. My face was burning, and I mouthed a 'Thank you.' to Virginia, but she just grinned.

The woman held up a hand, and the room settles to a silence once more. "I am the Headmistress of this Academy, and I am not above teaching such sweet little twinkle stars. Thus, I will be one of your instructors, and as such, you may address me as Professor Potsdam." she sings, before she holds up on hand, "For some of you, this may be the beginning of an adventure you could have never imagined." she says, "For others, this will only be a baby step towards becoming what you knew you always would be." then the other, before reverting back to her earlier pose. "At Iris Academy, we teach spelling using the pentachromatic system." she says before closing her eyes, a flurry of color appearing behind her. I hear a few students whisper in awe, "An illusion." behind me.

On stage, what looked to be sparks began to dance mesmerizingly. "Red magic is forceful," she said, and they faded into a warm-hued mist. "but not necessarily violent." then the illusion blinked into another-a brightly colored flower. "Blue magic is the color of transformation," she says, and it transforms into a magical tree. _I say magical because I doubt that thing even exists._ "signifying change." she takes a deep breath, and the illusion blinks into yet another-full of beady-eyed cute animals and plants. "Green magic is the color of life," she says, "the world of plants and animals." she opens her eyes, holding out both hands, as the illusion fades completely-one with an elegant wand. "White magic affects the mind and spirit." she looks to her empty hand, "Black magic is contained within objects." then to the one with her wand. "Your palette should contain a few dabs of each color, but a beautiful painting does not require every shade. It is your style that matters." she says, and I hear Ellen sigh in relief. "All of you have your strengths, your talents. And here at Iris Academy, we _embrace_ that diversity and tailor your education to your needs." she continues, "Choose your schedule to focus on your talents. Don't become the reflection of your classmates. Follow your own star, wherever that may lead you." she smiles. "That is the way in which you are all alike. Each of you carry your own future, and I know you'll make us proud." she seemingly finished her starry-eyed speech, before clapping her hands once. "Oh, and you have all been divided into Halls to help create friendships with classmates, whom each of you share interests with." she says. "For the girls, we have the adventurous Horses, the charming Butterflies, and the mysterious Snakes." she smiles, and each Hall called claps. _I almost went deaf with the Horses._ "For the boys, we have the daring Wolves, the elegant Falcons, and the eldritch Toads." she says, and the boys each did the same.

"I hope you all become good friends-not just in each Hall, nor in each year, but with the whole Academy!" she sings. "But most importantly, I hope you get to know and eventually trust your roommates, so by the end of this year, you may pass the final exam." she smiles at us, and _I can hear the mischief in her voice._ "And I know your all looking forward to your exams. Yes?" she leaves no room for argument, her voice eerily sickeningly sweet. _I take that back. She's not normal._ And the audience, predictably, groans. Including me. "For testing purposes, you will be instructed to attend regularly set practical challenges in the Academy's dungeons." her voice was back to her normal tone.

_...This school has dungeons? Sweet._

"Each challenge you are given will have many possible solutions. You will need to make creative use of the spells you choose to learn. So think ahead on what might be useful, as well as how!" she sings, clapping twice. "Okay! Are you all ready for magic?" she exclaimed merrily, "Open up your schedules, and begin penciling in your schedules!" then tells us what to do. She exits the stage, and slowly, the students file out of the gymnasium. I open my schedule, and see five rows, each with the same thing marked downwards, giving options for that day-from top to bottom; Red, Blue, Green, Black, and White Magic classes. Below White Magic is a dumbbell-obviously gym. Below that is a book, obviously for study, and the bottom one are three 'Z's bunched together. _They allow breaks, fuck yes!_

For most of my life, everything was already planned for me, so this is certainly an awesome surprise. Wasn't until last year that they finally fucking let me choose my classes. Not that there was much to choose from. Still, everyone had to have the same number of classes, and they all started and ended at the same time. You couldn't get out of it. It's tempting to give myself a week-long break, but I highly doubt they'd let me off for pulling that.

I circle Blue Magic, then Red Magic. _There's tons of shit I don't understand, so I should study up on it. I wasn't fucking born yesterday, I know magic is dangerous._ I circle two study days and save the best for last. Gym! Virginia, Ellen, and I wave at each other before going together. Me and Ellen head for Blue Magic. When we walk in, I see the room looks pretty normal. Ellen excuses herself, and we both go to our seats. I ignore the student's chatter, but in the corner of my eye, I see the Professor from yesterday stalk in. _Oh, this is one of his fucking classes? Just fucking peachy._

"Mill about all you like; it's your time your wasting, not mine." I hear his dark, refined, and _oh-so-lovely_ British voice, "I have no objections failing the lot of you in the next exam." and I shudder. Not _that_ kind of shudder, I mean in disgust. _At my perverted fucking thoughts._ Everyone scrambles for their seats, and he begins. "In this classroom, you will be learning the subtle art of Blue Magic." he said, before raising his brow at a student that wasn't paying attention. "At least _some_ of you will. I thoroughly expect this lesson to pass over some of your heads." he said, glaring at the now sheepish student before removing his eyes from the poor sap. "Blue is the color of change. That is, 'altering' what is already there. Not creating, nor destroying." he placed his giant book on his desk. "It is commonly used in conjunction with other magical styles in order to perform alchemic transmutations and other alterations of essence." he droned, raising a hand. "Blue Magic can also be used to change the effects of an existing spell, to cast or dispel illusions, or to change locations without movement by intervening space." he counted, placing his hand down. "For a skilled Blue Magician, reality is fluid. All things can be changed. Yet few minds are capable of grasping the true range of possibilities." he said, and I widened my eyes, listening. He just implied that one can do so many things. "We'll see what you're worth." he turned to the board, and class began.

It went by in a blur, but I feel like I learned a lot of things-for just having taken only one class. Back in my dorm room, I flopped backward on my bed, stretching. It was quite tiring because I was concentrating really hard, something I'm not used to doing. Ellen's already here, sitting at her desk. "Hi, Amira. What did you think of class today?" I hear Ellen ask, "Tiring. Boring." and I yawn. "But fulfilling." I said, and she giggled. "Isn't it exciting, though?" Ellen said, and I gave a snort. "Honestly, it wasn't what I expected-I though we'd be waving around wands, and reading old scrolls." I say. "Sounds like it'll take awhile before we can do anything big. But I guess that's why we have school." I get up. "I like it better this way. We start off with the theory behind the magic-it makes it into something real, something I can use, instead of it being just a dream." she says, "I've spent my whole life dreaming about something like this happening to me. I wondered if that's what makes a Wildseed.. _wanting_ it so badly.." smiling sadly. "What about you?" she asks me, her expression normal again. I felt my heart race, suddenly feeling...insecure. I was born with it, like Virginia was, but my parents weren't magic.

I chuckle nervously, "Uh, I really don't know. I saw it in movies and games, and it looked fun, but it never really mattered to me." I leave out details. "I ain't super-smart, and I'm not all that creative, I personally don't think so, anyway." I shrug. "I never really got into fairies or cutesy things until I was eight. But I quickly outgrew that by the time, I think I was eleven? I also never wanted to be a goth." I rubbed my neck. "I was _really_ happy when I found out I could be a witch." I say, grinning fondly. "I guess my theory was wrong." Ellen said. "I couldn't think of any other reason this would happen to me." she frowns, but I shrug. "Well, it's totally random, right? 'Wild' just means we got lucky." I say, and Ellen looks quite miffed. "Even when it's supposed to be random, usually some people are more likely to get picked than others." Ellen huffs, crossing her arms. I flop back into my bed, loving the feeling of no shoes, staring in silence at the ceiling. "Doesn't mean it can't happen to the people who really, _really_ want it. Or we wouldn't have to make 'The Choice'." I kink my fingers at the last two words. "That's true, but I can't imagine what sort of person would say no." Ellen says. "Dunno." I shrug, only vaguely hearing her.

Now that I look at it, the ceiling isn't very interesting. I suppose most ceilings aren't that interesting-their all plain, and I never really cared to look at mine back home. After school, I did anything I wanted. Well, mostly. Until I was ready to go to sleep. I hum, "Should we decorate the ceiling?" thinking out loud. Ellen blinked at me. "What? The ceiling?" I hear her say. "It's plain and boring-I know, I know, all ceilings are like that, but.." I turn my head to Ellen. "..maybe we could paint the sky, with some clouds. Or cover it with those glowy star sticker thingies. Or posters." I trail off, shrugging. "Or something." I say, and Ellen gives a quick smile. "I don't want something over my head when I'm sleeping. What if it falls down?" she says, and I snort. "Okay, so no paint. It would be impossible for something harmful to stick up there and stay. So, I guess you'd wake up with those star things in your bed or a poster in your face?" I pipe in, amused. She laughs. "I'unno. It's just an idea." I roll my eyes. "If you want to cover the whole ceiling, you should probably ask Virginia what she thinks. It's her room, too." Ellen says. "What about what you think?" I raise a brow. "Well, I don't want something that might fall or make a mess," I snort a laugh at that, "but if you learn enough Blue Magic, you may be able to decorate with illusions." she suggests, and I blink. "Oooohhh..." I say dumbly, with so many ideas in my head. "Now that idea is pure gold." I grin at her, and she smiles. "Thanks." she says, "What would you want to make it look like?" then asks me. "Well, if your gonna make an illusion, you could make it _anything._ So it would be fun to see how crazy we could get." I pause, before continuing. "We could do swirling clouds and lightning. Dragons flying around." I pick random ideas from my mind. "Ripples and sparks.." I trail off, "How would we sleep with all that overhead?" and Ellen pitches in. "Um..we could turn it off at night!" I grin widely. Ellen looks amused. "Sorry, but I think that idea is a bit silly." she says. I shrug, putting my hands under my head. "Maybe I can think of something else, then." I say.

_Really, there's no rush. The school year is only just beginning._

The rest of the day went by in a blur. I was dead tired, so I went to bed early. The next day was Red Magic class. It was the same here, as Blue Magic class was yesterday-the students were away from their desks and mingling. I stayed at mine, staring out the window. I hear the door open, and I see Professor 'Grabby' for the third fucking day in a row. _Great. Him again._ "Get to your seats." he says, and everyone does as told-some kind of slowly. "Hurry up. No chatter." he snips, his face then giving a wicked vibe. "In this class, carelessness may cost you your fingers." he sneered, making the slouching students jump straight in their chairs, and start actually paying attention. I rested my head on a hand, half glaring at him for that baseless threat. I knew he felt my eyes, but he remained stoic. "Here, you will be learning the seductive art of Red Magic," he toned, and I tensed myself, willing back a shudder, "the evocation and control of energy." and he placed his book down. "With this power, you might summon a breeze, light a fire, or call a distant object to hand." he says, wearing a look of condescending amusement. "I say that it is seductive, because simple minds prefer simple solutions." he says, before inhaling deeply. "Blast your enemies with lightning! Tear buildings apart with earthquakes!" he yells, manically, "Let the world around you, burn!" with a feral expression, making some students gasp. _Oh my fucking God._ He immediately shifted back to his usual condescending state. _Scary._ "Fall victim to such vulgar fantasies, and you leave yourself vulnerable to those capable of creative thought. There are many approaches that direct force cannot defend against." he says, snapping his fingers for extra effect. "One inattentive moment, and you lose control of the forces you have summoned. After that, you will only be remembered as an unpleasant stain on the walls." he said. _Again, scary._ He rubs his hands together, giving a nasty smile. "Now, for your lessons." he says, then turns to the board. Classes begin for the day.

The next two days go by quickly, and I'm really trying to cram, but it's not fucking working. On my fourth night here at Iris Academy, the moment my head hits the pillow, I fall asleep. The next day, I hurry to the gym after I eat. Once there, I see no teachers. There must be none assigned to the gym. Other than that, there's a bunch of equipment. I make my way across the gym, and outside, I see a _fucking running track. This place actually has one!_ Feeling giddy, I begin heading there, but I hear someone behind me. "Hello there." I turn to see who the hell it is, and the moment I lay eyes on- _Is it a he? I think it's a he. It sounded like a he._ -him, I shuffle back a baby step before I could stop myself. _What the fuck is he?_ Since nobody's commenting on him, I decide to act as normal as I can in this situation. "Um...hello." I avert my eyes from his _fucking bat wings and one just mother fucking twitched._ I force myself to look back at him, holding my hand up for a handshake, but then he takes hold of it. I shiver in disgust-and thankfully, he doesn't plant one on me-he just bows over it with a wink. "My name is Damien. And you are?" he said, releasing my hand, standing up straight. "Amira." I reply. "I didn't see you at orientation?" I think out loud, because this guy is blue. With purple hair. He'd stick out like a sore thumb. "That's because I'm not a freshman." he chuckles. "Oh." I say dumbly. "Don't worry. You're not expected to recognize all the upperclassmen on sight, yet. That's next week." he said. "Right..." I trail, averting my eyes again. _Next week?_

I hear him sigh. "I suppose it was too much for me to hope for." he says. I'm not getting it. Hope for what? "I'm sorry?" I say, confused. _Come again?_ "No, it's alright. I understand. You've already heard the rumors." he says, and I blink. "Rumors?" I ask, extremely confused. "About me." he frowns. "They say I'm cursed, doomed to be evil, all because of what I look like. I can't help the way I was born." he says. _Um._ "Now, girls like you won't even talk to me. You hate me on sight." he says. _Wow._ "That's not it!" I exclaim, suddenly panicking. "It's your wings. Your wings. They, uh..." I trailed off nervously. I hear him laugh. "...moved..." I say sheepishly, averting my eyes, and he's laughing harder. "You've never seen anyone with wings before." he said, amused, stepping forward, his wings extending slightly. "I'm, uh..a wildseed." I say hesitantly. "And a lovely blossom you are." he winked. I frown slightly. "Is that normal?" I slightly gesture to his wings. "I mean, for natural born wizards and witches?" I ask. "Normal? I'd rather not have you think of me as anything so ordinary." he said. "Sorry." I apologize, and he chuckles. "It's fine. Wings can be merely a fashion statement. They're available at the local store, if you'd like your own." he informed. "You can _buy_ wings?" I ask, incredulously. _But then they'd be fake. Unlike Damien's whoppers._ "You're teasing me." I pout. "Yes, and no. You'll have to discover the truth for yourself." he said. "Well, if anyone gives you trouble, just let me know. I'll scare them off." he says. "Uh..thanks. I think." I say. "You'd better get on with your physical training. You'll need your strength next week." he gives me another wink before walking off to the sports equipment office.

I run several laps before heading back for a shower. Later that evening, I'm settling down, reading, when I hear a groan. I look at Virginia and she drops her notebook on the floor-making it shed a couple of loose pages. "What's the matter?" I raise my brow at her, and she rolls her eyes. "Oh, nothing. Just school." she said, falling backwards on her bed, kicking off her shoes. "I _hate_ school. Sitting still. Taking notes, listening to lectures about things I know already or never need to know anyway-bleh!" she sticks her tongue out. I roll my eyes. "Well, you don't _have_ to go to class everyday." I say sarcastically, gluing my eyes back at my book. I feel her smirk at me. "You were taking it easy today, huh?" she said, with a playful tone. "Nope, was at track." I droned, flipping a page nonchalantly. "Same difference." she pitched. I open my mouth to retort, but she continues. "Anyway, it's different for you. If I goof off, my brothers will catch me." she frowns. "Not that I care what Donald thinks!" she adds quickly, and I snort. "And William's different?" I raise a brow. "He's a good guy. He's always looked out for me." Virginia says. I hum in thought.

"Where did you guys come from, anyway?" I ask. "Massachusetts." Virginia says, and I blink. "Salem?" I cocked my head, giving a guess- _mostly because she's a natural born witch_ -and Virginia laughed. "Nope. Springfield." she said. I glance at her. "Were there..really witches in Salem?" I ask, and Virginia shrugs. "Sure. And there still are. But I know what you mean." she said. "A lot of magical people are really connected to their homes. We tend to build a tower and defend it. If things go wrong at home, you fix it. Not so keen on moving." she informed. "When times were bad for witches and wizards in Europe, they just hid better. They didn't go to America with the early colonies. Not in big settlements, anyway." she said. "And nobody from Africa went there at all. So the only proper magical people around were the natives, and by the time of Salem they didn't want much to do with colonists." she said, knitting her brows. "Then, um..a couple of kids came out wildseed and nobody was around to control them." she said. "So they witches they hanged were real?" I ask, and Virginia gave me a look. "No." she said. "It was only those kids who were magical-but they didn't know it. When they started doing real magic, they were just as scared as the villagers." she continues, "So, they blamed other people when the preachers told 'em to, and it was the other people that got hanged. Hard luck on them." she says. _Ouch._ "Anyway, we have school now, so that sort of thing doesn't happen anymore." she says. I give her an amused look, remembering her earlier annoyance, "I guess it's important to go to school, huh?" and she bristles. "Yeah." she says, before picking up the forgotten notebook, and getting back to work, pouting.

I'm awakened early on a _fucking_ Saturday morning, by a tap on the door and a faint hissing sound. _The fuck is going on?_ I force myself from my comfort, glaring at the door. I see three envelopes, each with our names on them on the floor in front of the door. "Hey! Money's here." Virginia grinned, picking them up, before giving me and Ellen our respective envelopes, before eagerly opening her's and showing off a five dollar bill. " May not be much, but it's our money that we're allowed to spend for the week." Virginia informs. "If it's our money, why can't they just give it to use all at once?" Ellen asks. _Well, we're teenagers. What do you expect?_ "They don't trust us to not _spend it all_ at one place, then run out, and complain." I say. Ellen crosses her arms. "Well, that might teach people to plan ahead." she says, miffed. "This way still teaches people to plan ahead. If you want to buy anything really cool, you've gotta save up." Virginia pitches. _True._ "But your missing the important part! It's Saturday, and that means a trip to the mall!" Virginia whoops. "Didn't think you were a shopaholic." I say, finally opening mine. "I'm not! But it's great to get out and look at something other than school for a while, isn't it?" Virginia says. "Also, they have ice cream...and penny candy. And really big cinnamon cookies. And-" she gets more excited as the list goes on, but is interrupted by Ellen. "We get the idea." she says, amused. "Since I've been there before, I can show you guys around." Virginia offers.

"What about studying?" Ellen pitches. "You have plenty of time for that during the week! Right, Amira?" Virginia tries. "Well. I don't really wanna go out today." I say. "You're used to this stuff, and I'm not. I'm still trying to get into the basics." I say. "If we prepare ourselves now, it should make the rest of the semester easier." Ellen says. "Well, whatever." Virginia said, not quite understanding. "Next time, I guess?" she shrugs. "Sure." Ellen smiles. Virginia departs, and later, I head to the library. I learn a few interesting tidbits, but being a freshman, I can't quite understand them yet. I write them down as I learn, for future reference. Soon, it's night time, and I'm in my bed. I stretch in place, before going to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this finally done, I'd like to announce that I'll be writing this by the game's 'week'. :D It SHOULD keep people sated for awhile..xD


	3. A Freshmen Initiation 'Love Letter'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shark Week. Or, Freshmen Initiation week, in simpler words.  
> "They're fucking terrifying."  
> Later in the week, Damien comes with a demand for a love letter.  
> "Did you really think I'd actually fucking give him a real one?"  
> Two days later, Amira's letter is found, and is given a hefty sum of 'delinquency points'. Luckily, by Friday, everything is solved, and thankfully, set back to normal. One obstacle has been conquered.  
> "Just fucking peachy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said the previous chapter should keep people sated for a while, but unfortunately, I was not one of them. xD Week two, exactly 7,497 words, enjoy! :D
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

It's Sunday morning, and out of habit, I wake up early. I groggily look at the clock, 6 AM, and I turn back on my side to go back to sleep. There isn't any school today, so I'm free to do whatever the hell I want. First is _sleeping in._ I wake up in the afternoon, and I quickly become bored. With nothing to do, I realize I miss Dad, and the few times we spent together because of his work. In his free time, we'd chat on the phone, but there's no phones on campus, so I can't call him. Dad promised he would write, but I haven't received anything, yet. Maybe he was too busy on the first day, or maybe the mail was being very fucking slow. There's literally no electric entertainment here. It doesn't really matter if I'm busy with school, but now that I have a day off, it's leaving me quite restless.

_So I decide to explore the campus._

Once outside, I take my time-careful to stop and admire things so I don't have another fucking collision. Even though the flowerbeds and paved pathways are beautiful, I wonder if this place has an open space. The track's open, sure, but I want a little more scenery, please. I follow the paths away from the main buildings, towards grassy fields-with a few trees spotted here and there. _We could play out here, if we borrowed some gear and equipment from the gym. That is, if Virginia was serious about starting a team._ Speaking of, I see her up ahead. I walk up to her, and see that she's talking to someone. _Is that..?_ I halt my steps. _It's the pink fucking fairy from orientation._ "-mostly girls again this year, isn't it?" I vaguely hear her delicate voice. "Yeah. Both my roommates are." Virginia says. _The hell she talking about? Me and Ellen?_ "That could be a problem, eventually." Pinky- _I'll call her Pinky. At least until I know her name. Maybe.-_ said. _We're both wildseed. Is that the fucking problem?_ Wait, they didn't say anything about that. "Well, maybe more of _us_ should drop out." Virginia rolled her eyes. "The other way would be more fun.." Pinky purred. _The other way? Fun?_ "Maybe for you it would." Virginia frowned. I hear the winged girl laugh. What the hell are they talking about? Well, this is fucked up. Spies never hear anything good. I have no clue what their talking about, and I sure as hell don't want to know. I turn around to walk away, and as I turn onto the path back to the main area, I realize. _Pinky purred. Seductively._ I blink, trying to halt that fucking thought process, and my heart drops when I fail. _That look in her eye. At Virginia. Pinky's lesbian?!_ I race my way back to the dorm, no offense. _That's some scary shit. Okay, Amira, don't you fucking think about it._

I close the door behind me, finally in the safety of my room. I take a deep breath and exhale. I see Ellen's not in yet. My eyes wander to my abandoned luggage, and the small dresser where I'd randomly shoved things, _and there's something to do._ To keep me busy. This is the end of the week. I have a chance to organize my stuff, as well as my thoughts. About the week. And maybe review the magic I've learned so far-not that I've learned anything. I take everything out, organize them the way I usually do, and spending the rest my time dozing about. I'm woke up the next morning, and after we're dressed, Virginia herds us to the gymnasium-filled to the brim with students. _Is this a meeting of the whole fucking school?_ So, I ask her, "What is this..?" and she just grins secretly, "Can't tell you." she says. Someone steps up to the podium. But it's not a teacher. It's a student. One I've never seen before. "Good morning, everyone! My name is William Danson, and I am your incoming senior class president." William says from the podium. _Class president? That explains why he's up there._ "But for the next week, half of you shall refer to me as Sir William." he said. _Oh, I can see where this is going._ "Welcome, to Freshmen Initiation." he welcomes us, with a wink. _Yup, just peachy. A fucking magical initiation ritual of some fucking sort._

"Before we start, I am required to give you some safety information." he said. "Nothing that happens this week should cause you physical harm. If you are ordered to do something dangerous, or that you know is wrong, please go to a teacher immediately." he said. "Now, all you freshmen, please line up. One at a time, come up on stage, announce your name and where you come from, and receive one of these Initiation Handbooks." he smiled. The students do as told, dutifully shuffling along, announcing themselves one by one. I yawn, bored, only vaguely hearing a couple names-Suki Sato and Jamal Meer-but in the corner of my sight I see _Pinky_ on stage. I gather her name, Pastel Rao, then twins went up at the same time-Luke and Logan Phifer..then it was my turn. _So I say it simply._

"My name is Amira Fatima, I'm from New Hampshire." I say, and William hands me a stapled-together paper booklet. I walk off the stage giving it's contents a quick glance-over, seeing a bunch of rules and a list of all the seniors with black and white pictures and full names-and above the first page was big, bold letters:

**"MEMORIZE"**

_Just fucking peachy._ I go to where I was standing before in the audience, and I begin reading the fucking thing. _Okay, so rules..'Memorize this poem and recite it on command' blah, blah, blah._ I skip down to the next rule-I'll actually read the fucker later. _'We must never show our backs to a senior.' and 'We must never be taller than a senior.'_ What the hell? Nobody can help how tall they are. _'We must always respond to requests with-'_ and I see William step up to the podium again. "Now, as well as serving and honoring all seniors, each one of you will become the property of a particular senior." he said. _What in the actual fuck?_ I decide to ignore that for now. "Your senior is your master, your best friend, your worst nightmare, and your only protection from the rest of us!" he grinned. I snort, _he's a softer version of Virginia. Wait-William. Oh. He's her brother._ "Stand and wait and we will choose." he says. I hear nervous chatter around me, as he steps away from the podium. The seniors start to move about the room, poking and prodding, and calling out orders. "You're taller than me, freshman! Get down on the ground!" I winced at a girl's shrill voice. _Thankfully that's not me._ "Don't turn away from me, freshman! I see your back!" I hear some guy yell off to my side a ways-Ellen and I end up kneeling, back to back, watching the seniors circle-and _I'm fucking staring ahead. No way in hell I'm looking around like a dumb ass._ "You." I hear a male voice, a familiar one, and it being sudden and sharp made me jolt up to its owner. _Oh, yay. It's the purple pretty boy. What's his name again..? Oh, Damien._ "Amira Fatima. I think you should be mine." he purred. I tried not to make a face of disgust, "Oh. Okay." I say. _Please just get this over with._ "Stand up." he orders, and the third rule found it's way into my brain. And I vividly remember, although only by a bit, being taller than him-maybe 3 inches or 5. "But I'm taller than-" I begin hurriedly, but he interrupts me. "It's alright, you're with me." he smiled. "You don't have to worry about the rules if I'm with you. Only what I say matters." he said, and I released a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Here, take my hand. I'll help you up." he offered a clawed hand. I stare at it. _If I get up on my own.._ My mind wanders, _'We must always respond to requests-'_ "I won't hurt you." I hear Damien say, jolting me out of my brain. "Um..that's not it.." I trail, taking it. He hoists me up, and I was right-I am taller than him. "Come on, I'll walk you to the door. You need to stay by me until you're out of sight of the other seniors. Then you can plan the rest of your week in peace." he said. "What'll happen for the rest of the week?" I ask. "More of the same, mostly. They'll boss you around when they see you and make you say embarrassing things. Then on Friday, everyone hugs and makes up." he shrugs. "Don't let it distract you too much from your studies. You need to learn if you're going to keep up." he said, leading me towards the door. "I suggest studying Blue Magic this week." he said. _Grabby's class? Peachy._ "Is that an order, Sir?" I ask. "Just a suggestion. When I give you an order, you'll know." he said, stopping when we arrive. "I will turn up to give you some instructions later in the week. I wouldn't be doing my job properly if I didn't give you at least a little bit of a hard time." he winked. _Ignore it, Amira. This will end soon._ He grins before brushing my cheek with the back of his hand, "Good luck, Amira." he said, before heading off with a wave. When he's out of sight, I shiver in disgust.

After a few moments of gathering myself, I open my schedule. I circle White Magic, Black Magic, and Green Magic classes. My pencil hovers over Blue Magic, but I go for Red Magic class instead-and then Blue Magic. I proceed to make my way towards White Magic class, and once I arrive, I find Professor Potsdam by the chalkboard. "Good morning, star shines!" she sings. I head to my seat, "You'll need to sit down before we start, but take your time." and sat down. "Relax. Get comfortable." she says. "That's very important when working with this style of magic." she informs, and I do. I stretch out my shoulders, loosening them, before slinking back in my chair. "To some people, white is the absence of color; a blank canvas. To others, it is a complete spectrum. All colors, combined into one." she said. "In some ways, you can think of White Magic as either of these things. White Magic is the tool you use to access the spiritual realm." she informs. "Ghosts. Spirits. Creatures from other planes. The thoughts of those around you." she counts. _Cool._ "With White Magic, you can experience, and communicate with things that are normally hidden." she says, then inhales, eyes closed. "There is one thing I need to warn you about." she says, opening her eyes. "Some people have tried to use White Magic to _control_ minds and spirits, without asking for their aid." she sighs. _Everyone who does it shouldn't fucking exist. Nothing can be_ _controlled_ _. Even I fucking know that._ "Don't do it. You _will_ regret it." she firmly says, sadly. A moment later, she's back to her usual self. "Now, shall we go on with the lesson?" she sings, and classes begin.

For the second time, I put my utmost in concentrating on a lesson. When it was over, I was in the hallway headed towards my dorm. I hear yelling ahead. _Great. As if I don't already have a headache._ "Lower, freshmen!" some orange haired chick yelled at- _is that Ellen? Fuck, it is._ "Yes, Lady Angela!" Ellen bent her knees sheepishly, but the bitch follows suit, lower than Ellen. _How fucking immature can you be?_ I stare, incredulous, as Ellen kneels lower, trying to make herself smaller. I fidget. _It's not dangerous, not something to warrant going to a teacher. But I..I have to do something-_ "Hey! Leave her alone." a green-haired chick exclaimed _-those glasses. She was in the handbook. Isobel, I believe?_ "Is she yours?" Angela taunted. "She's a Horse. And this is our Hall. You can go on now." Isobel merely raised her brow, not reacting to Angela. "Whatever." Angela struts off, disappointed in not getting a rise out of Isobel. Ellen rises to her normal height. "Sorry about that, kids. People ought to be safe in dorms and classes so they can get their schoolwork done." Isobel apologizes. "I know I'm not your senior, but if you really need help dealing with the others, just let me know." she offers. "Thanks." Ellen smiles. Isobel nods, smiling back, before returning to her room. I come out of hiding. "Are you okay?" I ask Ellen. "What? I'm fine! Everything's fine!" she exclaims, startled by my sudden presence. I look at her disbelievingly. "Really." she says, reassuringly.

I follow Ellen into our room, to see Virginia on her bed. "Hey, guys! How's initiation so far?" she grinned. I frown. "Not sure what the point is." I say. "It's a bonding experience!" Virginia pitches. I roll my eyes, and head to my bed, plopping down. "How else would you know that you'd grown up and become a real witch?" she tries. "When you're old enough?" I pitch in, brow raised. Virginia snorts, "Whatever. So who'd you guys get for seniors?" then goes to a slightly different topic. "I got Balthasar Brundrick. He likes plants. He _really_ likes plants. I think he's got moss growing on him." Virginia says. "Um..your brother, William." Ellen said. "Oh, that's great! He'll be good to you!" Virginia grins, proudly. "What about you, Amira?" she asks me. _Purple pretty boy._ I cough on a laugh. "Damien Ramsey." I reply. "Oh no!" Virginia gasps. "What do you mean by, 'oh no'?" I furrow my brows. "He's evil." Virginia whispers, as if it's the most obvious thing and if he hears her, he will hunt or down or some crazy shit. "I met him last week. He didn't seem like that." I say. _He has womanly, purple hair. He's got blue skin, and fucking wings that move. He's weird, and sure, he's not human-but that shouldn't mean he's evil._ " _Look_ at him! He's a demon!" Virginia exclaimed. _Demons are fucking real?_ But even so, I get defensive. Because I for one have had tons of judgmental _assholes_ in the past. "I have no idea about the race, or species, itself, but even if he is a 'demon' it doesn't mean he's rotten to the core like one in a movie or in stories." I say, quite upset, now standing. Virginia opens her mouth for a comeback, before closing it, making a sound of exasperation. "He's vicious!" she argues, and that pisses me off. "I take it he's done something _so_ bad to warrant your accusations? Care to inform me?" I raise my voice, only managing to reign in my anger slightly. Virginia grunts in indignation. "If not, then maybe that's the way he is, or he's just grumpy. I'd be grumpy, too, if people pulled that behind my back." I say, eager to continue, but Ellen gets in between us. "Please..don't yell.." she says meekly. Virginia makes a frustrated noise. "Whatever. You do what you want." she flops to her side, on her bed, facing the wall. I inhale deeply, tamping down my anger, sighing in exasperation. "Listen, if there's really a problem with him, tell me about it." I try to sound nice. Virginia doesn't reply. "Please?" I ask. I try to lighten the mood, "Puppy eyes?" and Virginia snorts a half-hearted laugh, before getting back up. "Just rumors. He's your senior now, anyway." Virginia says, and I don't push it.

First thing the next morning, I'm hurrying across the campus, and I see Damien leaning on a wall. In my fucking way. "Well, hello there, Amira." he purred. I blanched. "Uh. Can't talk right now, sorry." I begin to pass him, but he stops me. "What's the matter?" he said, eyeing the coffee cup in my hands. "Big Steve caught me and demanded coffee. He needs it _right now._ " I stress, hoping he'll let it go. "Who do you belong to, me or Big Steve?" he said, rather suggestively. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, "Um, you. But-" I say. _Temporarily to you._ "Then I think you have time to talk." he said. I just about throw my head back with a guttural grunt of annoyance, but I stop myself. So I look at him, frowning. _Please get it over with. After I deliver this, I have Black Magic class to attend._ "Don't worry, I won't bite. It's just that I've been thinking about you." he said. _Fucking peachy, he's drawing this out._ "As your senior, I'm supposed to give you commands, so that you can demonstrate your obedience. I have to make you do things that you wouldn't want to do." he says. I raise my brows, _go on._ "But I don't want to do anything that would hurt or upset you in front of other people." he says. _Thoughtful of him._ "Oh. Well, thanks." I say. "So I thought of something else. Something you could do that no one else would have to know about. Our little secret." he winks. "And that is?" I raise my brow at him, and he grins widely. "I want you to write me a love letter." I hear him say.

I blink. Twice. Three times. "What?" I ask him incredulously, hoping I've misheard. "An extremely romantic love letter. I want you to proclaim your undying passion, in words, with hearts and flowers," he says, and I'm losing color as he continues. "and sealed with a kiss." he finishes, and I sputter, _almost fucking dropping the coffee for Big Steve._ "I-That-It's-" I try to make a fucking sentence properly, but it's not working. "See, you're embarrassed!" he smirks. _Actually, no._ _It's fucking called revulsion, pretty boy._ "That makes it a good challenge for your initiation. And a good souvenir, too." he says. _I'm starting to regret defending him._ "I always wanted someone to write me a love letter." he says. _Oh, fucking peachy. Guilt trip!_ "So you'll do it. Right, freshman?" he didn't ask. I sigh in exasperation. "Okay." I say. "Good girl." he winked. "Hand it to me by midnight and your task is complete." he says. "And make sure it's juicy!" he added. I stare at him, disgusted. He fidgets, "You'd better hurry and deliver that coffee now." and looks away. "Oh." I resume my rush across the campus, and manage to finish my task successfully. Thankfully, the coffee was still hot.

Later, I arrive at the Black Magic class, remembering what Professor Potsdam said at orientation. _Black Magic is contained within objects._ Speaking of, she's near the board again. "Good morning!" she sings. "Has everyone got a smock or an apron? There are plenty in the back!" she said, cheerily. _Aprons? The fuck do we do with those?_ Along with the other students, I grab one before heading to my seat. "For those of you who are new to our magical traditions, I should reassure you that Black Magic has nothing to do with death or evil." she informs. _Of course. If you were actually paying fucking attention at orientation, then you'd know._ "There's no such thing as evil magic. There's only magic." she says. _Makes sense, it should on dep-_ "The bad and good come from how you choose to use it." she says. _Ditto._ "Black is the color of weight, solidity, and permanence. Black Magic is the magic of enchantment in physical form. All wands and things like that are created with Black Magic." she informs. "This does mean that _cursed_ items are enchanted with Black Magic as well. That might be how people got the wrong idea." she adds.

A pale girl with raven hair raises her hand. "Yes, Raven?" Professor Potsdam answers. "Since you're enchanting matter, and bones are matter, you _could_ use Black Magic to animate a skeleton..right?" the girl asks. _She's the fucking vampire looking girl from orientation. Just peachy._ "That's an interesting question." Professor Potsdam smiles. _True._ "You could certainly enchant a skeleton to hold a spell, or react in some way. You could set a skull to chatter it's jaw when anyone came near, like an alarm." she says. "But to make something that could walk around and act on its own, you'd need to bind a spirit to it, and that calls for another magic." she informs. _Makes sense._ "We will get to combined techniques later in the year." she smiles, before looking back to the class. "Now, one of the easiest ways to infuse magic into a physical substance is to mix things together in liquids. Potions. And that's what we'll be starting with." she says. "Always remember to wear a smock or apron. Potion stains can ruin your uniform!" she warns, and the lessons begin.

Later in the day, I'm staring at a blank piece of paper in front of me, tapping my pencil on my desk absently. "Um..could you stop that? It's a slightly annoying sound." Ellen says to me. "Sorry." I apologize, stopping. _I need to write a fucking love letter._ I sigh in exasperation. "Are you doing homework?" Ellen asks. "Nope. A stupid 'love letter'." I say. "A love letter?" Ellen gasps. I choke in disgust. "Not a real one!" I struggle to correct. "For Initiation. I'm supposed to write this," I shrug, kinking my fingers, " _really romantic_ love letter. But I have no clue what to write." I say. "Oh. Maybe you should just quote Shakespeare. Sonnets are romantic." Ellen suggests. I snort. "I doubt that counts as _writing._ " I say. "Sorry. I was never really good at creative writing." Ellen apologizes. "Oh! I have an idea!" she exclaims excitedly, and I turn in my chair to look at her. "You don't have to copy a famous poem exactly, but they can still give you suggestions." she said. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate." she recites. "So..compare him to something. Something unusual." she says. I raise my brow, turning back to face the desk. _Nice one. Hmm.._

"So, like..." I trail, writing the first line down before I read it out loud. "The steel of a knife is not as sharp and strong as your teeth." I snicker. "That doesn't sound much like a love letter." I hear Ellen say. "It's not supposed to be a real one. He wants it over the top, so, why not stop trying to make sense?" I shrug. In my peripheral vision, I see a bird fly by outside of the window, and I look at the sky. _Oooh, here's a good one._ I start writing, "Your mind...is like the sky. It's huge...and when...it gets dark...there are stars in it." while reading out loud. I pause, staring below it. _Let's make it crazier._ I grin, doing the same for this next one. "I want..to sail to those stars...on my hoverboard..and circle them...with my magical pen...to make them...change color." I continue, _I have to add something romantic or he might decide to hound me about it._ So I write down the finishing sentence before I read it out loud as well. "Then, I'll bring them together in an explosion of romance." I end the letter with a stereotypical, "Yours, Amira." before stretching back in my chair.

"That's..very strange." Ellen says. "Means it's _special._ " I correct. "I suppose." she shrugs. I look back down at my scribbly-scratchy handwriting, and I frown. "I don't have good, cutesy 'love letter' handwriting, though. And I don't have pink and girly paper, either." I sigh. "I do." Ellen pitches. "I could copy it over if you want." she offers. "Really?! Thanks!" I grin widely, happily taking her up on her offer. I hand her my letter, and she takes it with a smile, producing a pad of pink paper decorated with flowers. Damien flashes in my mind, _'sealed with a kiss.'_ he said. "Oh, and it's supposed to be sealed with a kiss. Do you think he'll know if I don't?" I ask. "I don't know. There might be a spell for it." she says. _Just fucking peachy._ "Guess I have to, then." I pout. Ellen finishes copying it, and hands it to me. I fold it neatly. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the receiver of this damn thing from my brain, giving it a quick peck. _That has to count._ Now I can deliver this thing, and fucking forget about it.

The next day, I'm in for Green Magic Class. When I arrive, I see Professor Potsdam by the board for the third day in a row. As the students file in, "Hello, little seedlings! Please take your seats." she sings. "Today you're going to learn about Green Magic-the magic of life. This is a very important skill for any witch or wizard to have, especially when you get to be a certain age." she says. "Your body is a garden to be cared for. With proper tending, it could last you for centuries." she informs. _Centuries. One hundred fucking years?!_ "Slowly, carefully, you must encourage your subjects to grow in the direction you prefer. Be patient, and the rose vines will lose their thorns and twine around you." she says. Some blonde dude off to my right scoffs. "If it can heal, it can kill. What happens if you force something to grow the wrong way, quickly?" he asks. "Why would you want to do that?" Professor Potsdam decided to act innocent. "Because you don't like the life in front of you." he sneers. _Okay, he's twisted._ A glint of interest gleams in Professor Potsdam's eyes. "Well, if that's your plan, I can look forward to working with you for a very long time." she smiles, and I swear her voice is taking slightly sadistic undertones. I blanch, and blondie merely furrows his brows in confusion. "Life has it's own flow. You can change it, but the harder you push, the more energy you'll need. To cause a great change in an instant requires immense power." she informs. "So you'd better get started!" she said, with a scary smile-and the lesson begins. As I get into the lesson, I pay more and more attention. _Life is truly a mystery. Perhaps this..will help me in understanding._

The next day, I'm in the Red Magic classroom-there was a handful of students earlier than me. I take my seat, and stare at the sky, allowing myself to go into a 'half-trance'. When Professor Grabiner arrives, I'm shaken out of it, and I see the room half filled with quiet students waiting patiently in their seats. He proceeds to walk to his desk, and frowns at something laying dead-center in the middle of his desk. He picks up a folded piece of _pink fucking paper,_ a corner of it pinched between his thumb and forefinger. _It's. Oh my fucking God, it's._ Like a particularly unpleasant soiled piece of fucking laundry. I feel my cheeks burn bright, as he places his book down to the side, unfolding it gingerly, before reading the damned thing out loud. "The steel of a knife is not as sharp and strong as your teeth." he raises a brow high, and my blood runs freezing cold in _fucking humiliation_ as he continues. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck!_ A male student a ways to my right snickers, and a couple others follow suit. _It's him._ It's quickly silenced by a sharp glare from the Professor. "Would the author of this little missive care to identify him-or-herself?" he said, with a threatening tone. I force myself to calm the fuck down, but it's not working. _The fucking purple bastard, I'm gonna-_ I was raging inwardly, "What the freshmen do not realize is that the professors have _ways_ of finding these things out." he sneers. _Oh, fuck. Ellen rewrote it for me, if-_ he holds his wand against the paper, and I jump up in my seat with a loud clatter of both my chair and my desk without another thought. He halts. "Miss Fatima." he toned, all eyes on me. "Do you expect me to be flattered by your childish affections?" he snarled. Red was seeping into my vision. "It's-" I force myself. "Ten demerits and a detention this Saturday." he said, discarding the offending item into the plastic bin. "It was-" I tried to fucking explain, "Silence!" but he would not have it. _And neither would I._

"Sir, it was-" I tried, louder. "Out!" he roared. "I know who it was!" I yelled. "Do not try to accuse another student! I call your bluff, Fatima!" he seethed. _Fuck this._ "It was-" I said with purpose, _"Out!"_ he roars again, threatening me with his wand, "Or I will be forced to show you the way." he hissed. _He wouldn't._ But the look he was giving me said, _he fucking would._ I pound my desk in a fit, storming out of the classroom. The door _slams_ shut behind me, and I wince at the force behind it. I take a deep breath. _Ramsey._ I proceed to stomp through the fucking hallways, through the fucking courtyard, with a seething, burning, _fucking raging fury and all I could see was red._ I vaguely notice some poor fucking pretty boy scurry away upon sight of me as I arrive in front of Falcon Hall. I take a deep breath, the red in my vision receding only extremely slightly-before entering. And it occurs to me, I don't even fucking know which room he's in. **_"RAMSEY!"_** through a tunnel, I hear a fucking vengeful, shrill _banshee_ of all fucking things. _Wait. That voice...is me._

I know this may sound dramatic, but I hear a loud clatter in one of the rooms, and several doors click-likely now locked. _And the sheer amusement of it, since they fucking deserve to be shivering in fear right now, made me calm down. Mostly._ The door farthest down the hallway opened, revealing the fucking traitor. His roommate slams the door shut behind him. "Is my favorite freshman looking for me?" he waltzed to me, unafraid. I jab my finger at him. _"You."_ I seethed, indignant. _"Gave that letter to Professor Grabiner."_ I hissed at him. "You've _humiliated_ me, and to top that of, I have _detention_ now, _pretty boy."_ I raged at him, poking his chest harshly. "Oh, no. Amira, I'm so sorry. This is my fault." he apologizes. "I know it is. Care to explain?" I raised my voice, and he raised his hands slightly. "I was telling some of the guys how I made my freshman write the letter for me. I was..showing off." he tried to guilt trip me into calming down. _Not gonna work, asshole._ "They thought it was funny. The very idea of a girl writing a love le-" I give him a purposeful jab, basically telling him _I don't give two fucks._ I raise my brows at him. "When I was in class yesterday, someone broke into my room and stole it." he explained. Now I remember, some asshole in class had the gal to _snicker._ It had to be that guy. "Oh." is all I can manage, dropping my hand.

"I thought they were only going to use it to tease me. I never imagined you would be hurt." he frowns. "I'll go to Professor Grabiner. I'll explain-" I close in on him, interrupting him. "I know who it is. It's a redhead. With magenta eyes." I reveal in a whisper. "If anyone should get punished, it's him." I hiss. _The fucker._ _I will have personal vengeance if he doesn't._ Damien half salutes. "Yes, ma'am. And red hair?" he asks. "Cropped." I say. "Ignatius." he scowls. "Anyway, I'm sure I can make him understand. Everything will be fine." he says. "...do I get a hug?" he tries, slyly. I give him a half-hearted glare and he chuckles. We exchange our farewells and each go our own way. The day dwindles by fast.

It wasn't until I woke up early on a Friday morning, something occurred to me. _It's fucking Friday the 13th._ "Virginia..!" I whisper, "Wake up..!" and she groggily looks at me. "..whaa..?" she slurs, annoyed. "Friday the 13th." I state the fucking obvious. "So?" she furrows her brows at me, trying to figure me out. "Any special stuff we need to do? Or not do? You know, to protect us from some sort of magical bad luck?" I push. "Ooooooohhhh." Virginia says, a little more awake now, rolling her eyes. "No. Friday the 13th is _good_ luck when you're a witch." she informs. "Oh." I feel dumb. "So it's a good omen that our initiation finishes today." she says, "Now let me finish sleeping." then frowns, pulling the covers over her head.

Well. I'm wide awake. _Might as well do something._ I quietly go to the hallway. I crack my neck, before proceeding to head towards the library for some more tidbits on the magical society. However, as I'm walking, I hear familiar footsteps ahead of me, and I see Professor Grabiner turn my way from around the corner, and I halt my steps. _Just fucking peachy._ His eyes widen minutely, not expecting me to be up at this hour. _And for some reason, that pissed me off._ "Good morning, Miss Fatima." he greets, halting before me. "Good morning, sir?" I expected him to walk past me, but he didn't. _Odd._ "I.." he inhales deeply, before continuing. "..believe I owe you something of an apology." he says. _Yup, peachy._ My brows raise high. "An apology, sir?" I try to act like a dumb student. I don't know if it's working.

"I did not give you a chance to explain your actions, because I believed that I already knew the reasons behind them." he says. "You may not be aware, Miss Fatima, but it is considered a traditional Initiation 'prank' to order freshmen to proclaim their 'love' for me." he informs. _Oh._ "The very thought of which fills them with horror." he says. "I see." I blink. "Since it was not your intent to disrupt my lessons, I will cancel your detention and return the ten merits I took from you." he says. I blink stupidly, _because all of this was going over my fucking head._ "And another ten," he sighs, "for having the courage to admit you had written the letter, and an apology for the lesson you missed out on." he finishes. _Ten-Ten merits..twenty merits. I have minus twenty. So...this is good._ "Thank you, sir." I say. I mean, this situation calls for it, right?

"Please do not feel that this makes us 'friends', Miss Fatima. It is simply redressing the matter of balance." he addresses, to my great confusion. _What the hell is making him assume that?_ "Yes, sir?" I humored him. He walked off. I sigh deeply, finally left alone to register what the fuck just happened.

 _Professor Grabiner just had to ruin my early day by coming my way. I stopped so I would not collide with him, again. I expected him to walk past me, but he did not. He apologized in a round-a-bout way, and I learned he was bitchy because it was a traditional prank that happened every Initiation._ I can kinda get where he was coming from, I mean, he receives that bullshit every time freshmen come in. I'd be pissed, too. _Lastly, he returned the ten merits he took, and removed my detention. Then he gave me another ten, because I had the courage to admit I wrote the letter. Technically, I didn't have the courage. I was afraid Ellen would get blamed for something I did-I wrote. Yeah, she rewrote the damned thing, but that doesn't count._ Slightly sorted out, I shrug. _Oh, well. I'll take what I can get._ I return to the dorm room, just as Virginia and Ellen were about to head out. For class. _Just fucking peachy. I have Blue Magic class, today, too._ We each went to our scheduled classes. _I try to pay more attention to the fucking lesson than Professor Grabiner's voice._ And thankfully, I succeed.

I learn a new spell. Light. It's not much, but it's to be expected since is literally the second week. After everyone's had their classes, we're summoned to the gymnasium. At first, it's just us freshmen, a lot of them herded together, confused, and whispering about all these tasks they were given during the week. Then, I hear heavy footsteps marching in unison. _Let me fucking guess._ "Bow down! Look up!" I hear them yell. _The seniors. Just fucking peachy._ "You're too tall! Don't turn your back to me!" they bellowed. _Oh, please, just get this over with._ "Lower! **LOWER!** " I shuddered. _I'm already on my knees, looking as small as fucking possible. What more do you fuckers want from me?!_ William takes the stage. "Welcome, freshmen! It's time for the final phase of your Initiation." he says. _Fucking finally._ "Corrina will be passing out the blindfolds. Please put them on." he says. A long-haired girl from Snake Hall tiptoes around, delicately placing a strip of black fabric in every freshmen's hands. Soon, I receive mine. _What the hell?_ I sigh, putting it on. Everyone else was doing it.

Okay, so now I'm fucking blind. I don't have a single fucking clue as to whats going on. I hear people moving around, whispering..and a few giggles. I furrow my brows, and do the only thing I can in this situation. Wait. Eventually, I feel someone touching my shoulder. "Stand up. Carefully." I hear a guy say-his voice is familiar. _Oh, look. It's the pretty boy._ I do as told, with hands under my elbows, steadying me. One of the hands _fucking shoves me._ "Wha-?!" I'm passed at a dizzying pace between several pairs of hands. "Round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows!" I hear a girl sing. "Stop!" I vaguely hear-I think it's Damien? I don't fucking know. My head is spinning. I feel them hold me in place, until I'm not fucking swaying like a retard.

All pairs of hands but one leave me, and I hear a male voice in my ear. "For your own safety, do exactly what I tell you." I nod dumbly. "Walk forward, slowly." I do. Exactly as he says. Across the gym, out a door, through a hallway, out another fucking door, and I feel a breeze. _So, outside, now._ Eventually, I hear a girl tell me, "Step up." I do so apprehensively. "Careful, now. Don't hit your head." she says. I feel a hand on my head. Guiding me into- _a fucking van?_ I hear the other students being guided into the other seats. _Okay, so we're going somewhere._ My brain wanders, and soon, we arrive and are carefully ushered out of the van.

"Surprise!" I hear, and my blindfold falls to reveal Damien grinning widely. "Huh?" I blink at him in confusion. "Initiation is over! Now it's time for the party." he says. _Party?_ I finally look around. Groups of students, seniors and freshmen alike, are lounging around the lakeside, mingling freely. There's long tables set out, groaning in protest of the weight of watermelons, fruit punch bowls, and chafing dishes. "There's soda and barbecue and games." Damien says. "And presents, from seniors to their freshmen." he adds. "Presents?" I blink at him stupidly. "You bought me a present?" I furrowed my brows. "Actually, we were supposed to _make_ them. But I've never been very good at that sort of thing." he says. "So..here." he gives me a small box. And of course, I open it. Inside is an artsy-elegant handle. _Looks like to a knife.._ I pick it up, and see a layer of metal in the middle of it. I fling it open easily. _Oh._ "A pocket knife?" I raise a brow at it, the metal has cool engravings on it. _Not a practical gift, but it's interesting._ "Yes. But my teeth aren't sharper than the steel." he winks, amused. _You wanted a letter that was over the fucking top, so I gave it to you, buddy._ "This was mine when I was a little boy. I kept it with me like a lucky charm. But now I want you to have it." he says.

Upon inspection of the tip, I see it's sharp. _Might come in handy._ I flip it closed, with a shrug. "Thanks." I say to him. He smiles brightly-creepily so. I don't mean he's smiling evilly or anything, it's just that..he's weird. Flirtatious. _Yes. That's the word._ "Come on, let's join the party." he says, and his wings flex. _I'll never fucking get used to that._ "It's just getting started!" he says. "Alright, alright." I groan. Since everyone's here, I could get my roommates to meet Damien. But then that might backfire. So, I decide to just have fun. "Anyone bring games?" I ask. "Oh, and are we allowed in the water? Not sure if I can swim in robes, though.." I say. "You could always take them off." he winks. And I rightfully rear back. "Just kidding." he laughs. _Didn't fucking sound like it, but okay?_ "Yes, we can swim here. There's a safety barrier set up to block the deep parts. You probably should take off your cape, but robes are fine." he informs. "If you'd rather play games, there are hoops and darts." he says. I see a couple students playing it a ways off. "Anyway, we can do whatever you like. The party's for you, you know." he says. _Flattery._ "I mean, it's for the freshmen." he corrects himself. And so, we have a good time together.

On Saturday morning, I wake up to envelopes being slid under the door again. Our allowances, and one extra. I look at it, _and it's from Dad._ I open it up, _I'm so happy right now._ But when I did, there were only a few lines. He sends his love, _my heart drops,_ and he hopes I'm having fun at boarding school. _That's fucking it._ No mention of what he's been doing, or how he's feeling. He didn't even ask me how I feel. No questions about any new friends... _my hand's moved to my mouth._ I choke back tears.

 _He's a busy man, Amira. Don't be disappointed. He..didn't have much time to write. He didn't even receive a letter from me._ I calm down. _I'll write to him tomorrow._ I abandon his letter at my desk, and head to the library. I drown my depression in my studies the best I can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignatius is a tasty little scrap for Amira's fury. xD Your likely not to see anything on him again unless the situation calls for it. I'm not doing Damien's path according to the game because I has plans for the pretty boy.. :D  
> Amira is slow minded, and most things can be a wee bit overwhelming for her to process unless she really works into putting her mind to it.


	4. The Uproot Begins (P. H.G)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spanning the first three weeks of the arrival of the freshmen, Hieronymous Grabiner's life just only begins to turn upside down. A certain wildseed, Amira Fatima, reminds him of his former lover from some years ago. He dreads the years to come.
> 
> However, he does not know her true nature. Everything he knows will soon be pulled out from under him, as fate is not yet finished with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Hieronymous POV because I want to! :D
> 
> Heeeee. Don't judge a book by its cover like Grabby here, because as you know...Amira's a spitfire. :P Looks can be very deceiving! :D
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

Three years ago, my Father had decided to pay me a visit-oddly enough. He wasn't one to do such a thing unless he had some sort of scheme up his sleeve. He was _late._ The damned man was usually punctual, and I was _extremely busy_ with the students at that point in time-a new batch of juveniles came in, and I had to deal with each of them accordingly. Later that evening, someone that was undoubtedly working for _him_ showed up, letter in hand.

The letter was an excuse-a rather pathetic one, for having wasted my time, when I could have been preparing for the practical challenge for the students-something about learning about some female wildseed, and upon arrival, how he just had to give the girl The Choice once he found out she lived in the 'area'. Afterward, he had received summons back to Britain. Suffice to say, I have taken a habit of burning his letters since then. I admit it is rather childish of me, but let us not dwell on that.

_I vaguely remember his mention of abuse. Poor child._

I had thought nothing of it, not because I didn't want to. Nor did I wish to do so. It was not uncommon for wildseeds to be treated that way-the parents did so out of fear in most cases. I was busy, I had to prepare for this latest herd. Surprisingly, there were more wildseeds this year. And rather unsurprisingly, one student had decided to not pay attention to where she was headed. She was slightly taller than average, on the stocky side, but she had odd silver willowy hair. Her skin was a delicate light brown. "Um.." I hear her say. "I'm sorry, sir..?" the girl sounded meek, too innocent for the world of magic. I couldn't help but be reminded of my emotional scar, and that left a disgusting taste in my mouth. "A new student, I see. And who might you be?" I say, my words coming out harsher than intended. The girl looked like a deer caught in headlights.

_She is scared of me. I am not fond of scaring my students, but if it makes them pay attention-I am not below it. Within reason, of course._

I raise my brow at her, she has not yet answered. Her face had become flush-and I heard her strangle out words. "Amira Fatima, sir. I'm new here, and-" she had said, but I paged through my book, scanning for her name. "Miss...Fatima?" I read aloud. Next to her name was written, "Wildseed." I had applied the appropriate amount of demerits, as well as a warning before continuing on with my business.

It was not until sunset, that I had noticed, Miss Fatima was staring at me. _What would warrant..?_ I decide not to dwell on it, for there were things that needed to be finished, because tomorrow, classes would begin. I had finished the necessary work early enough for a long hot shower, before I turn in. Once under the hot water, I allow my mind to wander. The student earlier today had an odd name, of Arabian origin. However, her skin was not the coloration expected, and nor was her silver hair. Perhaps deciphering her name's meaning would be a good teaser-though quite short. Do note that I do not do this on a regular basis-she is the first one here, at least in my lifetime, to have a name as such. I merely take interest in the meaning of occasional foreign words, or in this case, a name-if I have not come across such things for a long time. A memory exercise, if you will.

 _Amira..a feminine form of Amir-thus, 'Princess'._ _Fatima..Captivating? No, chaste. 'To Abstain'. Her middle name..she had chosen to keep her middle name private. I wonder why?_ I finish cleaning myself, then set to towel myself dry before wearing a pair of light and comfortable velvet pajama trousers. I gave my preparations for the next week a quick once over, and seeing no mistakes, I turn in. 

* * *

The next morning I woke early, and had taken my time in getting ready-since Petunia is welcoming the freshmen today. I had cast the spell required for teaching two classes at once, and it would activate once I enter one of the specified rooms. Today, I was to teach Blue Magic in person. My illusory was to teach Red Magic. For those of you who do not understand me, I mean, by mundane terms, a 'doppelgänger'. I do not mean that word by the species of the Otherworld, by the way. They are a rather wicked bunch..it is best to avoid them- _if you are so magically inclined_ to sense their treachery. I pity the poor fools who aren't.

I arrive on time for Blue Magic class and exact to my expectations, the freshmen prattle about the most trivial of things. "Mill about all you like; it's your time your wasting, not mine." I walk in, and the classroom goes silent-all stares. "I have no objections failing the lot of you in the next exam." I speak, truthfully, ignoring their eyes. _Now_ they sit in silence. "In this classroom, you will be learning the subtle art of Blue Magic." I begin, duly noting a student who has decided to play ignorant. I raise my brow at them, "At least _some_ of you will. I thoroughly expect this lesson to pass over some of your heads." speaking with a purpose. I glare as they right themselves to pay attention. "Blue is the color of change. That is, 'altering' what is already there. Not creating, nor destroying." I place my Grimoire on my desk. "It is commonly used in conjunction with other magical styles in order to perform alchemic transmutations and other alterations of essence." I recite the teachings for this class. "Blue Magic can also be used to change the effects of an existing spell, to cast or dispel illusions, or to change locations without movement by intervening space." I count. "For a skilled Blue Magician, reality is fluid. All things can be changed. Yet few minds are capable of grasping the true range of possibilities." I finish. I turn to the board, "We'll see what your worth." and begin the lesson.

Impressively, Miss Fatima had radiated interest throughout. She was one of the few to do so, whilst actually listening, by Miss Middleton-whom I had expected to do so. Both of whom are wildseed. Later in the day, I had finished imparting my wisdom-I was in my rooms, making note of the students' progress, no matter how small. When evening came, I had finished my shower, and partook in on of my many books.

The next morning, I awoke to a presence in my room. My on-campus housing was warded, so the presence could not have been magical. _Violet._ I narrow my eyes at the thought. Nor spiritual. It could not have been a materialized presence as well, for I would have sensed it's breakthrough of the wards. Logically, the only with abilities to do as such is a _sentient._ Such beings are excruciatingly rare. I have only read what little is known about _em_ as well as multiple theories. They embody their creators' thoughts and emotions of a time. I sigh deeply, readying myself for Red Magic class, repeating the illusory spell for Blue Magic.

 _This will put me on end for the rest of the day. Oh, joy._ I thought, sarcastically.

I arrive at Red Magic class, to the students loitering about. "Get to your seats." I say, and a few decide to take their time in doing so, "Hurry up. No chatter." I snip at them, and they do as told. Unfortunately, the lot of them decide to play ignorant. "In this class, carelessness may cost you your fingers." I sneer at them, they never fail to amuse. _I feel a peculiar set of eyes on me. Miss.._ I see her in my peripheral sight, _Fatima._ I choose to ignore her for the time being. "Here, you will be learning the seductive art of Red Magic, the evocation, and control of energy." I recite the usual, placing my Grimoire on my desk. "With this power, you might summon a breeze, light a fire, or call a distant object to hand." I say, before correcting the students' amusing misinterpretations. "I say that it is seductive, because simple minds prefer simple solutions." I say. _Now for the fun part.._ I inhale deeply.

"Blast your enemies with lightning! Tear buildings apart with earthquakes!" I exclaim, "Let the world around you, burn!" making several of them gasp. "Fall victim to such vulgar fantasies, and you leave yourself vulnerable to those capable of creative thought. There are many approaches that direct force cannot defend against." I inform. I snap my fingers, making them jolt. "One inattentive moment, and you lose control of the forces you have summoned. After that, you will only be remembered as an unpleasant stain on the walls." I say.

_Good. The lot of them have come to the epiphany, that being harebrained as they are is potentially deadly. I do not wish to lose any students to such things._

I rub my hands together-truly, teaching Red Magic is most entertaining-giving them a smile. "Now, for your lessons." I say, turning to the board, beginning the lessons. Once over, I repeat the activities of the previous night. Thankfully, I was not graced by a particular presence for the rest of the week. 

* * *

This week is the dreaded Freshmen Initiation. Later in the week, as I have not received any _pranks_ , I had jinxed myself. I had received a pink slip on my desk is the Red Magic classroom, on the 12th. I was quite disgusted by this, but I had opened it, anyway. "The steel of a knife is not as sharp and strong as your teeth." I read the first of it, and I could not help but give a quick skim. Its contents were... _unique._ Since the other students so far have not gotten quite creative with me. Ignatius had shown his involvement, _so he was the one to deliver this thing._ I give the glamoured salamander a piercing glare, silencing him. "Would the author of this little missive care to identify him-or-herself?" I ask the class, my tone threatening. I give them _time_ to admit their foul play, as I exhaust of their foolish games.

However, the imbeciles do not answer. "What the freshmen do not realize is that the professors have _ways_ of finding these things out." I procure my wand from my robes, and before I am able to cast the spell, a loud clatter of desk and chair resound. The composer of this letter had surprised me. "Miss Fatima." I drone, deciding to play along with her precious game. "Do you expect me to be flattered by your childish affections?" I had said, her head was down, and she was shivering _vehemently,_ in such a way of fear. Humiliation. _Let this be a lesson._ "Ten demerits and a detention this Saturday." I toss the offending slip into the bin.

"It was-" I had heard her, "Silence!" I tried scaring the brat away. "Sir, it was-" her voice was louder. _She grates on my nerves._ "Out!" I roar, but to my surprise, she stays. _Foolish girl._ "I know who it was!" _Ah, so that was her plan._ "Do not try to accuse another student! I call your bluff, Fatima!" I seethe at her stupidity. "It was-" she tries again, and I will _tolerate_ no more. I hold my wand, ready to drag her out if necessary. _"Out!"_ I yell at her again, and she looks at me, red-faced, fearful. I contain my anger for the sake of such _innocence._ "Or I will be forced to show you the way." I hiss. The girl gawks at me, and after a few moments, she gives her desk a pound in a childish fit before strutting out. I _seal_ the door behind her, expending more mana than I had intended.

I forcefully compose myself, before beginning the lesson.

Later in the day, I was confronted by Damien Ramsey. He had explained that he was the senior to give the order-but he had meant the letter to be only for himself. Someone had broken into his dorm and had stolen the slip, and the next morning it was on my desk. _Ah._ He had presented the name of a suspect; Ignatius. I narrow my eyes. Once in my rooms, I record the progress of the students-making note to squeeze information out of Ignatius, and punish whoever is responsible for that distasteful event. I soothe myself with a long shower that night-hotter than the usual.

I wake slightly earlier with intention to fix my mistake, and as I'm turning through the hallways, I see Miss Fatima. _This early? Interesting._ I feel a slip in my expression, and immediately fix it. "Good morning, Miss Fatima." I tone, stopping before her. "Good morning, sir..?" I hear her voice. "I.." I sigh, trying to find the _proper_ words. "..believe I owe you something of an apology." I say. Her thin eyebrows shoot up-rather comically, might I add. "An apology, sir?" she says, her eyes disgustingly doe-like.

"I did not give you a chance to explain your actions, because I believed that I already knew the reasons behind them." I say, eager to put an end to this farce. "You may not be aware, Miss Fatima, but it is considered a traditional Initiation 'prank' to order freshmen to proclaim their 'love' for me." I inform. "The very thought of which fills them with horror." I add, dryly. "Since it was not your intent to disrupt my lessons, I will cancel your detention and return the ten merits I took from you." I say. _She is staring at me again._ "And another ten," I sigh, giving in. "for having the courage to admit you had written the letter, and an apology for the lesson you missed out on." I look away. "Thank you, sir." she had said.

"Please do not feel that this makes us 'friends', Miss Fatima. It is simply redressing the matter of balance." I say to clear any misunderstanding she may now harbor, and the girl merely blinks at me. "Yes, sir?" she furrowed her brows. _Innocent._ I turn, and walk away.

Later in the day, I am given the task of chaperoning the students for their annual _festivities._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, with this 'sentient' mentioned, I have an even bigger reason to continue the story. :D  
> Comments! Please? They're my fuel! I need my fuel, I'm running low. xD
> 
> Edit: Forgot Professor Potsdam's first name in my earlier writing. Changed to Petunia! :D  
> Shame on me...:(


	5. A Letter Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amira writes her dad. And notices her feelings for Professor Grabiner.  
> "Shut the fuck up! It was the exhaustion speaking!"  
> On a better note, she learns three spells in a row!  
> "Cool, right?"  
> ...and a newfound respect for Virginia.  
> "What? The girl has a big fucking appetite."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wee! Another chapter today! :D Because the week was so short, rofl.
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

Sunday morning, after breakfast, I'm at my desk, trying to figure out what to write to Dad. I could tell him about Professor Grabiner. But then I'd sound like I'm complaining. _Or like I have some schoolgirl crush._ My face heats up. _Why the fuck did I even think that?!_ I fervently shake my head, trying to rid my brain of _him._ Okay, there's some interesting stories about Initiation. But then it might sound like bullying. Oh, I know..I begin writing.

_Hey, Dad_

_Here at the campus, I have two roommates. I don't really know them all that well yet, but I'll tell you my current impression of them. Virginia's like a tomboy. She's active-I mean, very active in sports. She loves soccer. She's optimistic. Ellen, she's quiet, smart, and looks fragile. Unexpectedly, she likes softball. But I can totally imagine her playing well. We get along okay, I hope the three of us can be best buds in the future._

I pause my writing, thinking of something else to mention. I grin, and continue writing.

_Also, the food here is awesome. It's like a billion times better than 'local school' food. By the way, we're close to a mall! I haven't been giving myself time to actually go there with the girls, but I will, eventually. And the bed's comfy, so I get enough sleep. I also brush my teeth, so no worries there, okay? I know your busy, but as always, please don't overwork yourself._

_I love you, Dad._

_Amira_

Since mail doesn't go out on Sundays, I fold my letter and put it in an envelope-but I don't seal it, yet. I can get a stamp from the on-campus post office tomorrow. I think...I'll go for a walk. I set it down on my desk, and head out. I wander around the campus, letting my mind wander, as I look at all the green. _I wonder if it'll stay like that. I mean, this is a magical place, but...I'd miss the fall colors, though._ I snort at my next thought. _I wonder what witches and wizards do for Halloween. Dress like normal people?_ As I'm entertaining that thought, a walking, talking, blue-skinned, purple haired fucking Halloween decoration appears. I snicker. _Thank God he hasn't noticed me, yet._ "Hey, Damien." I greet cheerily. He looks at me oddly. "What are you up to? Wanna hang out?" I offer. "Why?" he furrows his brows. I blink, confused. "Um..to be friendly? Because..boredom?" I try. "Not _that_ bored." he scowls at me. _What the hell._ And without another word, he brushes past me. _What the fucking hell?_ Virginia comes up behind me. "I told you so." she said. "What?" I say, more at her sudden appearance. "That he's evil." Virginia frowns. "I was just talking to my brother about him, to get the scoop." she says. "He's a total womanizer. William says last year he left every sophomore in Butterfly Hall crying in the bathroom at some point." she informs, and I can only blink at this new information. "He get's girls' hopes up, then when they fall in love with him, he dumps them." she warns, _fucking insinuating that I'm-_

"I am not _dating_ him!" I yell, indignant. "The point is, he's a jerk." Virginia says. I huff in annoyance. "Forget you ever knew him. You'll be better off." she says. "Come on, let's go to the gym and play." she pouts. I roll my eyes. "Okay." I give in. She grins widely, and we go off to play for the rest of the day.

On Monday morning, I'm making my way to breakfast. "Hey, wait up!" I hear. I turn, seeing Virginia. "Phew! I caught you." she says. "Something up?" I ask her, and she grins. "Signups for clubs is this week. I wanted to make sure you were on board for the sports team. Liz next door said no, but Anisha's in." she says, and I frown. "Um.." I trail. "..what sport are we doing, exactly?" I ask. "Does it matter?" she says. I sigh, about to say something, but she interrupts. "We can vote on that later! First I have to get enough people to agree and find out what sort of team we can manage. Promise you'll join?" she gives me puppy eyes. I roll my eyes, with a snort. "Fine, fine." I say. "Great! We have official signups on Wednesday afternoon, so go to the gym then." she informs happily. "As long as we're both doing it, Ellen will _have_ to stop studying all the time and join in." she waves and jogs away. I head over to eat breakfast before I plan for the week-I schedule today for much-needed rest, and the rest for Blue Magic class.

On Tuesday, I am back up and running. I learn Silence. _Baby steps, Amira._ I smile. Wednesday, I learn Truesight. It allows the caster to see through low-level illusions. _Low-level, but still fucking awesome._ I arrive at the gym to see booths and tables placed around haphazardly, swarmed by students. Raven from the Snake Hall is with a group that appears to be the Drama Club. And someone has a 'Save the Dragons' banner. _From what, exactly? I mean, their fucking badass._ Ellen's already here, standing by the wall, looking around. Eventually, she joins the throng. "Hey, you guys!" Virginia greets us. "Come on, you guys have to put your names on the form to make it official! My signup's over there." Virginia points, grabbing us, "Eh?" Ellen squeaks as Virginia drags us with pep in her step on over to her station. "Sign it, sign it!" Virginia chants, and Ellen shakes her off. "All right, already, let go of my wrist!" Ellen exclaims. "Sorry." Virginia smiles, sheepishly. "You guys sign it, I have to go grab some more people!" Virginia scurries off excitedly. Ellen sighs, and picks up the pen with a smile. I wait for Ellen to sign her name, then I write my own beneath that. "I'm going to look around and see what other clubs there are, okay?" Ellen tells me. "I should, too." I reply, thoughtfully.

As Ellen and I browse the clubs available, I see someone jump up on stage. _It's Donald._ Virginia's other brother. He pounds his fist on his chest a few times, then takes a deep breath, "Brooms for old shoes, pouch rings, boots and buskins.." before singing. He has a surprisingly good voice-strong and clear. Even though the lyrics don't make any sense. I make my way towards the next area, but Jacob from Falcon Hall jumps up on stage next, by Donald. He starts the song from the beginning as Donald continues. _Odd way of singing._ After they finish singing, they give grandiose bows, and I applaud with every other student that was watching. "Come this way to sign up for chorale!" Donald advertised, happy-go-lucky. They both jump down from the stage. "Chorale sounds like fun." Ellen says. I shrug, _not my type of thing,_ but I follow her anyway, just to be polite.

"Hello, ladies! Here to sign up for-" Donald halts his charming speech. "Wait. I know you." Donald furrowed his brows. "How much rehearsal do you have to do to be in chorale?" Ellen asks. "You're Urchin's roommates." _Urchin?_ I blink. "What are you doing here? She said you were doing her stupid sports thing." he said. "I can't do both?" Ellen frowned. "Well..what if we scheduled things at the same time?" Donald tried. "You gotta pick which side you're on, mine or hers." he said. I feel my brow twitch in annoyance. "Well, that's rude of you." I frown at him, but Ellen just laughs. "It's okay. I know how you feel. I have a little sister, too." she says. _Oh._ "You do? You never mentioned her." I say.

"We're...very different people." Ellen says. "Jenny is not interested in magic. Or books. Or sports. She just wants to be a ballerina and have everybody love her." she says. "Is she spoiled rotten? Does she get away with everything, even though she started it?" Donald rose a brow. "Basically." Ellen says. "Ha!" he grins. "See, little sisters are a _menace._ " he said. "One time, Urchin melted a cherry ice pop all over my math workbook, and Mom and Dad wouldn't believe I didn't do it. As if I'd eat that junk!" he complained. "So they wouldn't spell it off, and I had to hear about it from them _and_ my teacher at school, because _she's_ a messy eater." he frowned. "Jenny used to hate it if I locked my door to study in private and she would stand outside and _scream_ until Mama would make me let her in." Ellen said in understanding. I blink at the two of them. "Yeah, you know how it is." he sighed. "Anyway, it's cool if you want to sign up for chorale." he said. "I'd like to try, but if it gets in the way of my schoolwork I'll have to stop." Ellen says. "Yeah, whatever." Donald shrugs. "What about you, uh...whatever your name is?" he looks to me. _No way in fucking hell._ "Uh..." I take baby steps back. "I think...I'd better go see how Virginia's doing." I scurry away with a quick wave.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, and I attend lessons the next day, learning Farsight. I celebrate inwardly, _I've learned three spells in a fucking row!_

Unfortunately, Friday was kinda an off day for me-at least I didn't fail this lesson. I return to my room to see Virginia sticking a piece of paper on her wall with blue putty. "What's that?" I ask, walking in, closing the door behind me. "Member's list." she says, "We did it! We have enough people for an official club!" cracking a grin. "Even if Liz still refuses to join because I said riding wasn't a sport." she flops back on her bed, and I sit down on mine. "It's mostly Wolves and Horses but I kinda expected that." she says, eyeing the list, before snorting. "Awww, Balthasar signed up, too." she rolls her eyes. "I hope it's because he wants to play and not because he likes me." she suddenly frowns. I laugh. "What, you don't like Toads?" I joke, but she humors me. "Horrible Donald put real toads in my bed when I was little. He was crushed that I didn't scream when I saw them." she says, amused. "I still kicked his butt for being mean to the poor toads. I don't think they liked my bed!" she says. "You guys always fight?" I ask, raising a brow. "Pretty much. He's been pulling stupid pranks on me since I was practically a baby." she says. "I thought all brothers did that?" I say with humor. "Not William! He's the best big brother ever." she grins.

On Saturday, I decided to finally go to the mall. Students are everywhere, lining up for free seats in the shuttle vans that go there. "Come on, we can ride together." Virginia leads me along, _and I fucking realize..._ "Wait a minute!" I exclaim and she pauses. "What is it?" she furrowed her brows at me. "We're still in uniform!" I say. She looks amused. "...So?" she asks. "Won't people stare at us if we're all wearing capes?" Ellen pitches, frowning. "Nah." Virginia laughs it off. "Just act natural. It's no big deal." she says.

Eventually, we arrive. It's not a very large place, nor is it overcrowded like a typical one. At least from where I'm standing, wizards and witches easily outnumber the people in ordinary clothes-but none of them react to us. _I guess it became the norm, then?_ "Okay! That place does coffee and pastries, they also have fruit.." Virginia pitches, "That one does baked potatoes, there's the gift shop, there's the cafe.." pointing at the respective areas. I blink. "Are all of these places magical?" I ask. "No, there's only one magic shop here. They sell wands and stuff." she informs. " _I'm_ going to get a chocolate croissant. What about you?" she asks. _...I'm hungry._ "Lunch." I say, going to the cafe.

I get my food and sit down. After awhile Virginia comes in, ordering a fucking monstrosity of a _thing_. Virginia, in the process of stuffing her face, waves me over. "Hey, Amira! Over here!" she yells, after swallowing her food. I can't help but stare at it. _It's huge._ There's a fucking giant cookie. Then brownies, each cut diagonally into triangles and placed around the cookie like the 'rays' of a fucking pastry sun. Topped with a fat scoop of chocolate ice cream rippled with peanut butter, and a small scoop of vanilla, perched on top like a fucking crown. _But that's not all._ Over the whole fucking thing are whirls of whipped cream. And tons of chopped nuts and chocolate fucking sprinkles. On the side of the plate are multiple cherry stems. "Your..." I feel my voice halt in my throat in pure fucking disbelief. "...going to actually eat the whole thing?" _And she raises a brow at me like it's fucking normal._ "You can have a bite if you want." she offers. "No thanks, I literally just ate." I wrinkle my nose. Virginia rolls her eyes. "Whatever. You're missing out, not me." she proceeds to scarf her food. _Virginia, I have a newfound respect for you._

The day whizzes by quickly. _It was a short, but fun week._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember; Damien is a Masochist. He's not partial to 'kindness'.


	6. First Exam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amira writes home. And finds William doing some Red Magic exercises.  
> "It was fucking awesome!"  
> Later, she finds out about exams.  
> "I fucking forgot!"  
> ...she also teleports out, impressing Professor Grabiner. She also gets a present from home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Change of plans! If it's a short chappie below 2k words, and there's no Grabby POV chappies(Or I'm not satisfied with the chapter), I'm doing more than one week(one chapter). Meaning consecutive chappie posts. :D
> 
> Also, there's a brief Grabby POV here. Heeee. :D
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

_Hey, Dad_

_I've gotten only one letter from you so far. What's been happening at work?_

I pause.

_I miss you._

_Here, I've met so many people. But it's just not the same._

I smile, continuing writing.

_Me and the girls have started a sports club. We had our first meeting today, and it was really fun. I'm getting plenty of exercise!_

_Write soon, okay?_

_Amira_

With a deep sigh, I fold the letter neatly, placing it in an envelope, before setting it on my desk to send later. _Take each day as they come, Amira. Everything will be..just fucking peachy._ I drag myself for a walk on the campus to get my mind off of missing Dad. As I'm aimlessly wandering around the campus, I see a tall figure tossing a ball literally straight up in the fucking air, then catching it. I head closer, and I realize I'm wrong. He's not tossing it up-he's not even fucking touching it. William's using fucking _experienced_ magic. I furrow my brows.

He points his wand at the ball, suspending it midair. With a flick of his wrist, he sends it flying upwards, where it eventually reverses course, and comes back down again. To be fucking _caught_ when he manages to line up the tip of his wand with the fucking ball. "What..are you doing?" I ask. "Controlled exercise." he says, _fucking doing it again._ "Is it hard?" I ask. _Sure looks hard._ He shrugs, easily catching it again. "It's a matter of keeping your focus, keeping your rhythm, and not using too much force, or it'll get away." he sends it up again, this time catching it with his hand. "If you want to show off, you do this with an egg. Makes it more obvious when you miss." he grins. "Red Magic?" I ask, staring at the ball. "Yes. Wanna try?" he offers, seeing where my eyes are. "Um..I'm not good at Red magic.." I trail, a little disappointed in myself. He laughs. "Hey, don't worry, your only a freshmen. This is upper-class stuff. You're not supposed to be able to do it, yet." he assures me. _That's true. He's a senior. And the fucking class president._ "You're better off practicing spells that are meant for your level. Especially right now, if you know what I mean." he informs, secretly. "Huh?" I blink in confusion. "You'll find out." he winks, heading off to some other place.

Practice...I sigh. _I should get back and decide what the fuck I should do for the week._

The next morning, after we're all ready, Virginia stretches. "Time for another week of the grind!" Virginia says, heading out. "Wait!" Ellen exclaims. "Huh? What?" Virginia turns to Ellen. "Well.." Ellen furrows her brows. "The first big exam is this week, right?" Ellen asks. _..Exams?_ "Sure" Virginia affirms. I blanch. _Exams._ "Who's giving the exam? What are we expected to know? When does it happen?" Ellen asks, and with each fucking question, I get _closer_ to fucking _losing my shit._ "No idea." Virginia laughs it off. "Um." I squeak, "Aren't you supposed to know these things?" I ask Virginia. _I forgot. I forgot. I forgot._ I chant in my head. "Your family-" I begin, but Virginia waves her hand dismissively. _I fucking forgot!_ "Secrets! All kinds of secrets. William says if he tells me what's on the tests then the tests wouldn't be fair." she says. "Well.." Ellen trails. "It would be wrong for him to tell you the answers. That's cheating, and William would never do that. But you must know _something!_ " she tries.

"What kind of tests are they, anyway? Do we have to write essays?" I pitch. _But this is a magic school, so.._ "Maybe fight duels?" I add. "Look, all I know is that it's about casting spells. That's it!" Virginia frowns. "Now come on, we have to pick our schedules for the week." she says, opening her own schedule, scribbling away. I sigh, and Ellen and I exchange a look, before we pencil in our own. _This week is the exam. So, it would make sense to continue learning Blue Magic, something I already know and feel comfortable with._ I fill my whole week for Blue Magic classes.

With great concentration, I manage two days with perfect scores. The first day, I learn Darkness. On the second, I'm awoken by something. "Oh.." _Right. Someone's fucking sleep talking._ "Oh, William.." I blanch, _and oh my fucking God is Ellen-oh._ Now wide awake, I realize it's Virginia. _Do I even want to know?_ I hear her slur something about a fucking octopus. I furrow my brows. _No. I don't want to fucking know._ Sleep eludes me for the rest of the fucking night.

I barely manage class in the morning, and I nearly fucking fall asleep-but I manage to stay awake and learn Teleport Other. Professor Grabiner gave me a lecture after class. I can't even fucking remember what the hell he said. I flop face first on my bed, and fall asleep afterwards.

The next day, oddly enough, I'm wide awake. I mean, very wide awake. _A '_ _I notice Professor Grabiner's eyes are a beautiful garnet' fucking wide awake._ I stare at my desk, flush for even fucking noticing that, only listening to his voice. "I will be holding an extra review session after class for students wishing to prepare for tomorrow's exams. It is up to you whether or not you choose to attend." he says, then turns to the board and class begins. _Just fucking peachy._ Do I really want to be stuck with him longer today? _Fuck no._ But my body won't fucking listen. I follow him and the students to a separate room. The room was too small for all the anxious freshmen cloistering in it. From what they are whispering, they don't know shit about what the exams are gonna cover. And Professor- _I use his nickname out of spite_ -Grabby's presence ain't doing quack to calm their nerves. Nor mine. "Open your notebooks, if you have them. This is not a quiz. This is for your own benefit. If you do not know the answer, _look it up_ or _ask someone._ " he says. I scoot over to Ellen, and she smiles at me knowingly-slightly pushing her notebook my way so we can both read it. "If you have paid _any_ attention to your schoolwork up to this point, you should be aware of a broad range of uses for magic within the pentachromatic system." he says.

"Mister Arias." he calls. "If I wished to cast a spell to make a beast's fur fall out, what color of magic would I use?" he asks. _Poor guy._ "G-Green, sir?" Manuel stutters out, amber eyes wide, ears quirked. _He's adorable._ As in, stuffed animal adorable-just in case of any misunderstanding. "I should hope that you would know that much without the need to ask for my approval." Grabby says. "Miss Fatima." he calls me next. _Just fucking peachy._ "What color of magic would you use to transform a lump of coal into a diamond?" he asks me. I blink. _The color of transformation. Change._ "Blue, sir." I say, and he raises a brow at me. "If I were to tell you what you already know, Professor, wouldn't it be a waste of time?" I raise mine back at him. "Blue Magic would suffice." he furrows his brows, and I can't help but be amused. He continues, putting each student on the spot to answer questions about the applications of each color of magic. I'm only vaguely listening to his questions and the students' answers, and suddenly I hear his voice cut into someone's sentence. "Mister Danson." he tones. "Yes, sir?" Donald blinks. "As you do not appear to have need of these revisions, you are excused. You may find more challenging material to occupy you this Saturday in detention." Grabby frowns. "Yes, sir." Donald pouts and leaves to the room. Did he even do anything? I'm not sure. I didn't see it if he did. It's too fucking crowded.

The next morning, I'm awakened by a knock on the fucking door. I roll over, my eyes scanning the room. Virginia's not even awake yet, and when my eyes meet Ellen, she shakes her head frantically. With a groan, I get up and put on my robes to see who the fuck it is. I open the door a peep, and see Professor Potsdam. "Joyous morning to you, Amira." she smiles. "Um..hi?" I trail off, noticing the papers in her hand. "I came to deliver your exam schedules. This is a solo exam, so each student has a separate timeslot." she hands them to me. "Report to the listed room at the time indicated to receive further instructions." she says, and I take them. "Please pass on the schedules to your roommates." she sings, and with a wave, she goes on her way. I close the door, and Virginia stirs awake. I give Virginia and Ellen their respective schedules, and we head to our classes for the day.

I  pass today's lesson with flying colors, and learn Teleport Self. After class, I stretch widely before I head to room my exam schedule said I had to go to. The wooden door is closed, and someone might still be in there taking their test. _I give zero fucks. I do not want to be fucking penalized for being fucking late._ So I knock. And my whole world turns into a fucking blur, and within a split second- _What the hell? Where the fuck am I?-_ into a square fucking room with no fucking doors. _No fucking doors._ I blanch. I feel something tickle my brain.

"You are now in Dungeon Level One." I hear a man's voice. A lovely British voice. _Professor Grabiner. Just fucking peachy._ "Layout Five-B." he drones. _He is in my head. Literally in my head. A fucking spell of some sort?_ "The exit from this dungeon lies beyond the wall in front of you. There are no doors in your room. You must use magic to escape. Good luck." I hear his sneer in the last part, and the tickle recedes. I sigh loudly. _This_ is the mysterious fucking test we gotta take? I take my school-issued wand from my robes. Obviously, I only get one fucking choice. I furrow my brows, _and I remember I learned Teleport Self._ I grin slyly. "Take this, old Grabby." I huff, thinking Blue Magic. The magic of change. _I want to change my current surroundings._ I close my eyes and concentrate. _The main courtyard. The colorful flower beds, the pristine paving stones._ I point my wand in front of me. _The arches. I want to go there._ Suddenly, I hear a loud _crack_ and a fucking _crunch_ and before I know it, _I'm not on the fucking ground!_ My eyes flew open. _And I'm outside, fucking upside down._ _ **"FUCK!"**_   I screech, deathly afraid as I'm falling-fucking headfirst-and having a fucking heart attack as I pummel through a fucking tree and onto a fucking hedge. I vaguely see Professor Grabiner through my disorientation. I hear bits and pieces of his voice, but it's like he's at the opposite end of a fucking tunnel.

_"-Fatima! Are-right?"_

I blink, coming back to reality at his concerned look. "I..think so." I manage, getting up, wiping off the branches and leaves I can feel through my uniform. He frowns, and I blink at him. "I had not expected you to be capable of a full-body teleport at this stage. I should have given you better safety instruction.." I see his eyes dull, before he closes them. "My apologies, Miss Fatima." he whispers. I panic. "No, no! I'm fine, everything's fine, sir!" I say, and he sighs, this time looking at me with amusement. "Indeed. You have succeeded with distinction. Ten merits to you." he says, before frowning thoughtfully at me. "In future exams, the dungeons will be warded to prevent exit by teleportation, so do not expect to replicate your success so easily." he says. "Yes, sir!" I say. "Hieronymous! Is everything alright?" I hear Professor Potsdam. "It's fine." he says to her, before looking at me. "You may go, Miss Fatima." he says to me, and the two walked off. I blink. Ten merits. _Ten fucking merits._ I feel a grin split my face. 

* * *

After I've finished repairing the wall, I hear a knock on the door. I activate the system easily, teleporting the newest arrival into the dungeon. _Miss Fatima._ I see her looking around her room, through the scrying mirror. I cast a simple Farspeak spell, and begin. "You are now in Dungeon Level One, Layout Five-B." I relay, and the girl stills. "The exit from this dungeon lies beyond the wall in front of you. There are no doors in your room. You must use magic to escape." I say. "Good luck." I add, to my distaste-dispelling my Farspeak. For a short while, she stands there. I sigh in exasperation, and am about to take her out, but she _grins._ Like, let us say, a Cheshire. I am quite.. _surprised_ by her sudden, though slight change in personality. "Take this, old Grabby." she whispers, with a rather sly tone. _She does not know I can hear her words._ I raise my brow as she procures her simple wand, pointing it in front of her. The girl squeezes her eyes shut, in a form of concentration. After a moment, I see slight movement in her figure. _Interesting._ Within a moment, I hear a crunch, and she _completely vanishes_ much to my dismay. And what's more, fragments of her wand have scattered _everywhere_ during her little stunt-but, being worried for my student's safety, I use my wand to cast a quick tracking spell, and she is in the courtyard- _such trivialities will wait until I ascertain her safety._ Before I teleport myself there, I hear her scream a rather colorful word. I arrive to see her littered with branches and leaves, ungracefully placed on a hedge.

"Miss Fatima! Are you alright?" I ask her-noticing she seems slightly disoriented. "I..think so." I just barely hear the girl as she gets up, brushing herself off. I give her a once over to make sure, and she is not physically harmed. _Good._ "I had not expected you to be capable of a full-body teleport at this stage. I should have given you better safety instruction.." I frown, and once again I am reminded of _Violet._ I close my eyes, willing her grotesque death from my mind. "My apologies, Miss Fatima." I whisper. "No, no! I'm fine, everything's fine, sir!" she says, the panic in her voice heard loud and clear, amusingly so. _For a student to notice such things-and worry about an adult's well being. Interesting girl._ "Indeed. You have succeeded with distinction. Ten merits to you." I tell her. "In future exams, the dungeons will be warded to prevent exit by teleportation, so do not expect to replicate your success so easily." I say, and she gives a resolute "Yes, sir!" to me.

_Faintly, I feel something in me stir, but it vanishes as soon as it appears._

"Hieronymous! Is everything alright?" I see Petunia heading our way. "It's fine." I tell her, looking back to Miss Fatima. "You may go, Miss Fatima." I inform her, before heading towards Petunia. I sigh, dreading the conversation to come about Miss Fatima's apparent capabilities.

And, to add another stress to my day, Miss Middleton does the same-but thankfully she does not break her wand, nor fall from an apparent point of height. 

* * *

The next day, me and the girls are chatting away. "So, about that exam, huh? How'd you do?" Virginia asks me. I gave two thumbs up. "Pretty well." I grin. "You?" I ask, putting my hands down. "I blew up the wall. Mostly, anyway." Virginia shrugs. "Old Grabby says that's the boring answer, but _I_ thought it was fun." she says. I roll my eyes. "What about you, Ellen?" I ask. "Well..I just teleported back out again." she says. _Huh. Just like me._ "Hah!" Virginia laughs, "That makes sense." she says. "What do you think the other exams will be like? More dungeons?" I ask. "Probably." Virginia says. "Weird how the exams are more fun than the classes, huh?" she says. _That's because you like to blow things up._ "I don't think they are." Ellen says. Virginia shrugs. "So, what are you guys doing today?" she asks. At that moment, there's a knock on the door.

"Is that the allowances? Why don't they just push them in?" Ellen frowns at the door. "I'll go check." I say, getting up, and heading to the door. I open it, and see the usual three envelopes-on top of a brown padded envelope addressed to me. _I see Dad's name._ He sent me something! I grin, picking everything up, giving the girls their envelopes. "What have you got there?" Ellen asks me after I give her the envelope with her name on it. "Something from Dad. Don't know what it is." I say. _The thing is covered in fucking tape. It's gonna take me awhile to pry the fucker open._ "It'll still be here later!" Virginia states the obvious. I head for the library and study.

On Sunday, when my roommates are out, I decide to open my package. _Technically, it's not a 'package', it's just a big ass envelope with a shit ton of heavy duty packing tape._ I try for a while to pry the tape off, but it's not fucking budging. I open my desk drawer to get clippers, but I see a more practical tool. Damien's pocket knife. I flip it open, and gently poke a hole in the damn thing. Slowly, I slide the knife in, and begin cutting it open so I don't damage the contents. When done, I flip it closed, and put it back in my drawer. Inside is a letter-and a small newspaper. _From my old school._ And a stack of photos. I flip through all the nostalgia.

 _I've been here for a fucking month, and I'm getting used to_ _it._ I grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amira gets her very first Grabby point. <3
> 
> P.S Fixed typos. I hate typos. :( Tell me if I have typos in my story. DX
> 
> Edit: Forgot Professor Potsdam's first name in my earlier writing. Changed to Petunia! :D  
> Shame on me...:(


	7. Decisions, Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amira's week doesn't go smoothly. Information on elections, a run-in with Donald and his prank box, plus finding out her roommate, Virginia, does not trust her.  
> "Just fucking peachy."  
> She decides to run for treasurer because that means she gets to spend more time with Professor Grabiner.  
> "That's not fucking it!"  
> And she gets Cinnamon Apple pie. So the week eventually ends on a rather delicious note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as long as I wanted it to be, and because Grabby arrived :D it cemented my start on another chappie right away. Hee! :D
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

Sunday passes by incredibly fast, because I'm so stuck on all this nolstagia. On Monday morning, "Hey, you guys. Are either of you interested in running for class office?" Virginia asks us a question on something I honestly thought she didn't care about in the slightest. "Like..president?" Ellen asks. "I don't think.." she trails. "What do you have to do to run?" I pitch in. "Not much. You just have to tell the teachers by the end of this week that you want to run, then next week everybody votes." Virginia informs. "Oh, and you have to have a clean record, no demerits." she adds. _Makes sense._ "There are only two positions for the freshmen class, president and treasurer. The upper classes have more because they do more events and stuff." she shrugs. I blink. "The freshmen officers don't do anything?" I ask, confused. "I'm sure they do _something,_ just not as much. Like, the junior class is in charge of the prom, and that's a big deal." Virginia says. "And then the same people who run the prom junior year have to run initiation at the start of the next year because elections haven't been held yet. It's a ton of work." she says. "It's much easier for freshmen. You probably just have to go to meetings with the teachers and nod a lot." she adds, before shrugging. "So, are you interested?" she asks again. "I.." Ellen's voice catches. "..no one would vote for me." she says. "But that's why I'm asking!" Virginia says. "See, Minnie Cochran is _obviously_ going to win president, so it's not even worth trying for that. But the treasurer position is open." she says, before frowning. "Pastel says Jacob says _he_ thinks he'll win it easy." she furrows her brows, before grinning slyly. "So I want someone else to win. _Anyone_ else." she says.

"William isn't running for president in his class again this year, so it's perfect! He can endorse a freshmen candidate and then they're sure to win." Virginia says, proudly. "I'm not sure that's.." Ellen trails. I roll my eyes. "Then why don't _you_ run?" I throw back at Virginia. She just laughs. "No way!" she grins. "Class officers have to have meetings with teachers! I see way too much of them in class already." she says. "Speaking of which, we need to pick our classes for the week." she adds. I sigh, staring at my schedule. _Study, Study, Sleep.._ I pause, and after a moment I circle for two Green Magic Classes.

Awhile after I came back from the library with a select few materials I brought back with me, I hear someone in the hall outside. I set my pencil down and rub my temples with an exasperated sigh, because this session wasn't giving me much at all. I open the door to see what the fuck is wrong. I see a box in front of the fucking door, and Donald backing away from me, wide eyed. _Mail only comes on Saturdays._ I squint at him and he winces. "Mail on a Monday?" I raise a brow, and he gulps. "Er, hi." he says, eyes looking elsewhere. _Fucking suspicious._ "Just delivering a package for Urchin." he finally looks at me. "Oh?" I hum. He glances away and _acts like I didn't fucking see it._ "Stuff from home that got messed up?" I ask. "That, or Mom thinks I need a dress." he says. I snort. "Well, your technically already wearing one." I say. "Yeah, but this one doesn't match my eyes." he grins. "I don't think Virginia got anything meant for you, though. No packages." I think out loud. "I'm sure mine will show up eventually." he waves it off.

"Guess I should bring that inside." I say, eyeing the box. And as I'm about to do so, Donald swipes down, with a quick, "I can do that!" picking it up. "Where should I put it?" he asks. Upon closer inspection of the box, I see it's completely wrapped and taped fucking shut. Unopened. _Suspicious._ "And how do you know what color it is? It ain't open." I raise my brow at him again, and I swear he gives the slightest fidget. "Uh, magic. You know." he tries. "And, if it got sent to you..why is Virginia's name on the label?" I interrogate. "Uh..I relabeled it?" he tries again. _It looks too fucking brand new to be 'relabeled'._ I raise my other brow at him. "You are lying to me." I state. And he gives a guilty grin. "Rats. You're not gonna fall for it." he says. "So this is some kind of joke, right? Is it a bomb?" I say. "Nah. I don't know how to make one that works but isn't dangerous, yet. Guess again!" he says, and my brow twitches. "A jack-in-the-box? With water balloons?" I frown. "I should have thought of a jack-in-the-box.." he trails, pouting. "And, I already _did_ water balloons this month." he says. "Last guess!" he gives a prankster-smile. _It's the wrong shape for a pie, so.._ "Some sort of dessert with itching powder in it?" I question, eyeing the box. "No, no food. More like the other end." he hints.

"The other..." I trail, and finally register what he meant. _Shit?!_ "You-" I squeak, horrified. "-in a _box..?!_ " I strangle the words out. He laughs at me. "It's not _mine!_ It's Jirsey dung!" he corrects. _Okay, not his. But it's still fucking shit!_ "That is disgusting!" I backpedal. He gives a heavy sigh. "Girls." he says. "I don't think _boys,_ " I say with a purpose. "would like that type of present either." I hiss. I take a deep breath. "What is the purpose of this anyway? Why do you always harass Virginia? She hasn't done anything to you." I seethe. "Because it's funny!" he grins. I place my palm on my forehead, willing away a migraine. "Well, it's not like that for _her._ " I sigh. "She thought it was funny when I made Jacob quack in the middle of telling her how great he was." he says. I snort. "He deserved that." I say.

"Urchin's a spoiled brat who doesn't do any work and makes everybody else wait on her." he frowns. "True. But you leaving it here would mean _we_ gotta clean _your mess."_ I say to him. "Why not make _her_ do it?" he says. "And see, even you guys she treats like servants! She _totally_ deserves this!" he argues. "You know. If you really want to prank Virginia with something messy, I have a better idea." I propose. "Oh?" he blinks at me. "A glitter bomb." I say. He deadpans me, and I snort. "A oily one. With an oil that sticks. No glue, because it'd turn into a dry chunk of glitter." I say. "And the best part, it's going _all over_ her bed." I say. His eyes glint interest. "It's gonna be a pain to clean, meaning Virginia _has_ to help if she wants to sleep that night." I smile at him.

"But what about this?" he pouts at his box. "Easy, make it from 'Balthasar Brundrick'." I say. "The one who always covers his face?" he furrows his brows. "Yeah. He was Virginia's senior at Initiation, and according to her, he's weird." I say. "Well, he is a Toad." he says. "Virginia's worried he might _like_ her. So if you really want to get her goat, you could give her a pretend love letter, not from him." I say, and he misunderstands. "Yeah, but what about this stuff? It's too good to waste!" he says. "And I don't think it'll make a good love gift." he adds. "Oh, it will." I roll my eyes. "He _loves_ plants. He's just the type to give 'fertilizer' as a gift. She wouldn't know you had anything to do with it." I say. "Wow. That's a good one." he says. "Got a pen?" he asks, and I give him one. He adjusts it so it says 'To Virginia-To Help Our Relationship Grow-Balthasar'. "So I just leave this here?" he asks. "Yeah. Outside the door. I can claim I don't know anything." I say. "Cool." he puts it down and jogs off with a grin on his face. _Asshole._ I go back into our room, waiting until I no longer hear him. I mentally prepare myself to dispose of it, _but I took too fucking long._ "Huh?" I hear Virginia outside.

I blanch as she walks in, eyeing the fucking box at the door. "What's this?" she asks me. "Do. Not. Open. It." I hiss through clenched teeth. She furrows her brows at me. "Don't even touch it." I warn. "Why?" she asks. "Because Donald left you something gross." I inform. "And how do you know?" she frowns at me. "He came by earlier while I was here, and I told him I'd go along with it. I mean, he's the type to come up with something worse, right, if I wouldn't?" I raise my brows at her. "Uh-huh." she affirms. "Worse than the oily glitterbomb I suggested." I wrinkle my nose. She cackles. "Glitterbomb?" she asks. "Thought it'd make him leave with that dung, but he didn't. Unfortunately." I frown. "Sneaky! And-" her face curls in disgust. "-dung?" she asks, grossed out. "Yes. So don't open it. Just throw it out and don't tell him I told you." I say. "But he has to pay!" she bristles. I snicker. "Oh, he will." I grin. "Pretend you never saw it. Play dumb. It will make him go absolutely _nuts._ " I say. "You _are_ a sneaky girl!" she chortles.

"...Wait. What if it's not from Donald at all and _you're_ trying to trick me?" she huffs at me. _Ouch. She doesn't trust me._ "It _says_ it's from Balthasar. Not Donald. And Donald doesn't even _know_ Balthasar." she twinkles at me. "He does." I shrug. "I don't believe you." she frowns, crossing her arms at me, acting like she's 'putting me on the spot' and has caught me red-handed. _Just fucking peachy._ "Well. Considering I went along with his stunt, he's likely to use the glitterbomb next, so the worst part is hopefully over-and _then_ you could maybe, go with my plan to drive the asshole insane, perhaps?" I shrug, and she glares at me. "Don't say I didn't warn you." I frown at her. "Jirsey dung, by the way." I inform, sitting at my desk with an annoyed huff. I proceed in my studies, completely ignoring her. Moments later, I vaguely hear her splutter at me indignantly, before shuffling it along the hall with her foot. The next day, I purposefully spend my study session in the library, and Wednesday, I can finally take a break.

Later in the day, I'm getting around to go to the cafeteria and eat when someone knocks at the door. I open it to see Donald. "Hey!" he smiles. "Virginia's not here." I raise a brow. "I was looking for you." he says. I frown. "Why?" I ask. "Want to earn some easy merits?" he asks. "How?" I furrow my brows. "Come with me." he says, and I look at him with great suspicion. "I don't think so." I say. "Suit yourself." he shrugs, before walking off. Thursday I learned Diagnosis. When Friday rolled around, I realized I had to make up my fucking mind before the week ends on whether or not I should run for a class office. I still don't know shit about what the jobs involve, other than working with the fucking teachers. _Which means, more time with Professor Grabiner._ It could help me get on his good side. _And I can listen to his lovely voice..._ I flush, shaking my head fervently. No. Knowing him, it just means more opportunities to make my life more fucking miserable than it is. _And that's only if I can win the actual fucking election._ I sigh loudly, and decide to run for Treasurer. _Likely against my better judgement._ In Green Magic class, I learn Track Scent. Afterward, I inform Professor Potsdam that I want to run for Treasurer.

As I'm headed for the room, I hear Virginia. "So! Are you going to do it?" she says. "I don't think.." Ellen says, meekly, and I walk in nonchalantly. "Aw, come on." Virginia coaxes like her usual self, and I roll my eyes, flopping on the bed. "I..I'm not the sort of person.." Ellen trails. "Pfft." Virginia huffs, before making me her next victim. "Amira! Are _you_ going to run for treasurer?" she grins at me expectantly. I snort a laugh. "Yeah." I affirm. "Yippee!" she hops for joy. "Now I can tell that spoiled brat to kiss my-" she gets interrupted by Ellen. "Hey!" Ellen scolds. "Sorry." Virginia laughs it off. "I've got to go make plans!" she says, and leaves the room. Ellen sits on her bed, brushing her hair back. "Such a strange thing to get so worked up over." she says. "Well, she's competitive." I shrug. "If it really matters so much, she ought to do it herself instead of trying to get everyone else to do it for her." she says. _Huge fucking déjà vu._ "Do you think W-" she corrects herself quickly, "Do you think her brother will do what she says? Promote someone, just because she wants him to?" she asks. "Dunno. I mean, she's his baby sister. So why not?" I shrug. "He's so sweet." she flushes lightly.

 _I smell something juicy._ I grin mischievously at her. "Ellen, have you got a crush on William?" I ask slyly, amused. "What? No!" she squeaks, face redder, eyes wide. "Maybe.." she whispers, smiling shyly. She sighs, eyes squeezed shut in a thoughtful expression as she flops back on her bed. After a few moments, "...yes?" she hesitantly gives me her answer. I roll my eyes. "Ain't nothing wrong with that. I mean, you like him, so what's the problem?" I ask. "He's cute, he's responsible, he's a good student.." I count, trailing off. "He's popular." Ellen adds. I blink. "So...?" I trail, silently asking her _what the fuck._ "So he could have any girl he wants!" Ellen pitches. _Ah, jealousy._ "And he'd never want a girl like _me._ " she sighs. _And confidence issues._ I deadpan. "Guys want someone pretty who likes makeup and dancing and pouts until she gets her way." she frowns. "Jenny's not even thirteen yet and she's already got boys chasing her." she crosses her arms. "Boys think of me as just-" she throws her hands up in frustration. "-a rock with hair! A useless fuzzy lump!" she says, uncharacteristically loud. "William is _nice._ He would never..but he would never.." she trails off.

 _Okay, I'm not good at this subject of having crushes, confessing, or dating-but right now, I literally don't see what the fuck is so wrong about Ellen liking William._ "If you like him, you should just tell him." I say clearly, before shrugging. _Now that I've said it..like it's the easiest thing..I have a feeling I am going to severely regret it someday._ "No!" she squeaks. "What's the worse that can happen? Him saying no? If he does, it just means you don't have to rip yourself up over it anymore." I say. I grin slyly, "And what if he actually _likes_ you and you're just wasting time not knowing?" dangling a tasty bit. "Th-That's not very likely!" she lights up like a fucking Christmas light. "Oh, shut it. You'll never know, unless you try." I say, playfully. She smiles. "We're freaking _Horses._ We're _supposed_ to be daring." I say, and she giggles at that. "You're cute, you're clever, and you're sweet. Maybe he likes you, maybe he doesn't. There's only one way to find out." I say. "I..I'll think about it." she says.

The next morning, I pitch the question. "So, are you and William working on your plan to take over the class today?" I ask Virginia. "Well..we can't _today,_ exactly." she says, sheepishly. "Why not?" I frown. "He's not here." she says. "What do you mean, he's not here?" Ellen asks. "It's Cider Day, the big apple festival in the next county over. Most of the upperclassmen go there on a fieldtrip. It's over an hour away, so they have to leave early." Virginia informs. " Then why didn't we hear about it?" I ask. "Freshmen aren't allowed. It's a privilege." Virginia says. "What's an apple festival?" Ellen asks. "A harvest fair. Don't you have those where you come from?" Virginia asks. "I don't know." Ellen says. "They get a big old-fashioned cider press set up on the green so everybody can watch the apples being crushed, and they sell jugs of it." Virginia informs. "There's lots of food-" she begins, _and here she goes on a foodie tangent again._ "Apple doughnuts, applewood smoked sausages with apple juices smothered on it, apple upside-down cake, caramel apples, squash-apple soup.." she counts. I raise my brows at her with an amused smile and she snorts. "Well, it's not _all_ apples." she says. "Big bake sale, craft sale, art contest, and there's fiddlers in the day and a contra dance in the evening." she informs. I choke back a laugh miserably, because from the look on Ellen's face, she has no idea what the fuck a contra dance is, and she's not gonna ask.

I decide to study for the day. And after eating, I'm headed back to the room with Ellen and Virginia. And I see a fucking box in front of the fucking door. "Another box?" Ellen frowns. "Oh, not _again_ _.._ " Virginia pulls back a leg to kick the offending object _far_ down the fucking hall, but she pauses, cocking a brow at it before putting her leg back in place and looking to me. "Hey, Amira. This one's for you." Virginia says. _Me? Just fucking peachy._ I squat by it, and see a flap where it's supposed to be opened. I cock my head, reaching for the flap, gently opening it _because it's a fucking box. And boxes are fucking suspicious._ "Oh." I say dumbly, once I get a peek. "It's a pie." I pick it up. _A fucking pie. Who would-_ "Cool!" Virginia exclaims. I open the damned thing wide and examine it. It has golden, flaky lattice shaped crust covering- _is that fucking cinnamon?!_ I feel my mouth water. Cinnamon fucking apple pie, fucking country style.

"But how did it get here?" I hear Ellen ask, snapping me out of my fantasies of enjoying every fucking bit. I blink. "Some upperclassmen must've brought it? From the festival?" I state to obvious. "Ooo! Maybe it's from William!" Virginia pipes, and I wince. _Talk about fucking insensitive._ "Why would he be sending Amira a pie?" Ellen crosses her arms, in jealousy. "An election warmup gift?" Virginia tries, but that's not fucking helping. I sigh, loudly. "If it were him, he'd send a note or something with it. Must've been Isobel who took pity on us poor freshmen." I say, and that seems to calm Ellen down. S _lightly._ "Well, I just ate. Is there a place for students to store food or something?" I ask, staring down at it. "Nope! You're just gonna have to eat it." Virginia grins. And I just realize, I can't eat the whole fucking thing.

"You," Ellen starts, "I can't eat the whole thing." the same time as I do, "pie." finishing with basically the same sentence. Virginia cackles. Ellen giggles. I roll my eyes. "We'll be eating _together,_ Virginia." I say. "All of us." I add. "Now. Let's go back to the cafeteria and eat this." I begin making way there first. "Woo!" Virginia whoops, following along, "I'm not sure.." and we stop at Ellen's voice. "I don't know if I like apple pie. I've never eaten it." Ellen says. "Whaa?" Virginia's about as stupefied as I am. "How can you have never had apple pie? That's, like, the requirement of American culture!" she says. "If you aren't sure, this is the perfect time to try some, right?" I ask Ellen. "If you don't like it, Virginia will eat your share." I add. "You bet." Virginia grins. We split it and eat it.

_And every last fucking bite is delicious._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rofl I did a double take, because in my notepad I didn't title chappie 7 here properly-I titled it chappie 6. XD


	8. To Be Class Treasurer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amira gains weight from all the delicious food.  
> "No shit, Sherlock."  
> Professor Grabiner delivers Election Protocol.  
> "When I'm in my fucking sleepwear!"  
> William comes with the intention to be her manager,  
> "No thank you."  
> but she chooses the love of-  
> "Fuck you, narrator!"  
> Anyway, the week soon ends on a rather interesting note.  
> "Yeah, of being the school's fucking mail woman."  
> Correction, the Freshmen Year's mail woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Writing this wasn't easy. I lost myself 3-4 paragraphs in. XD I had to take a break, and my only excuse is in the end note. Be warned, it is a spoiler. :D 3,914 words. (had to go back the other chappies with word counts because I did them incorrectly XD)
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

Monday morning, I feel like _fucking shit._ And my boy shorts feel snugger than usual around my ass and waist, plus my night-time tank top feels tight around my fucking boobs. And the only fucking thing that it could be, is _I have been eating too much lately without fucking working it off._ I groan, flopping face first on my pillow. The girls are already dressed, and I'm thinking I'll fucking skip today. "Amira, today's a school day, so maybe you should get dressed?" Virginia says to me, and Ellen's looking at me worriedly. "No. I don't feel good." I pout, curling up. Virginia snorts. And just then, there's a sudden, sharp rap on the fucking door. I haul myself up, trudging there. "Don't say I didn't warn ya." Virginia shrugs. "Shut it." I snip.

"Miss Fatima, if you please?" I hear as I'm reaching for the door, _It's_ _Professor Grabiner. **"Fuck."**_ I feel my whole body go beet fucking red, _and did I just say that out loud?_ I hear Virginia fail to keep in much of her laughing. I open the door a tiny bit, and I'm peeking one eye out. "Yes, sir..?" I ask, shyly, _and I am on fucking fire_. _He's here, early in the fucking morning_. _I'm just out of bed, feeling vulnerable, and fucking conscious because-_ "Is there a problem?" I hear him. "No, sir." I squeak out. He sighs, before handing me a folder bulging with a shit load of paper. Upon close inspection, it reads 'Election Protocol'. I furrow my brows at the thing. "You will review these documents and meet me after class today at the conference room to discuss your campaign strategy." he says. "Unless you'd prefer to forfeit now and save us both the trouble." he sneers at me, and I notice I've been _staring_ at the fucking thing. Now more angry than embarrassed, I snake my arm out, and take it- _and I feel it fucking start to tumble out of my grasp._ That's how fucking huge it is. "No, sir." I hurriedly bring the thing in, clasping it to my chest, but unfortunately a few papers decide to fucking fly-thankfully, within my fucking room. He eyes me suspiciously. "Very well. Good day to you." he says, and struts off. And I suddenly remember something.

_You will review these documents and meet me after class today at the conference room to discuss your campaign strategy._

My heart drops, I lose my fucking breath. I blanch, slam the door, and scramble to pick up the papers which flew, dropping more in the fucking process. Virginia lets loose, and cackles. "Do you need help?" Ellen asks worriedly, and I wave it off. "No, thanks." I place them on my bed to review _today._ But first, there's something that I need to do. I open my schedule and set today as a rest day _because there's a shit ton to go over._ And gym for the rest of the fucking week. I get dressed, and quickly head to the conference room, and start skimming through the fucking thing, searching for the most important looking stuff.

 _The elections occur Friday afternoon. I gotta decide on a campaign slogan, do promotions, and fucking write a speech that'll make people vote for me. And fundraising. But this is a fucking boarding school. So I have to think of ways to do that?_ I go to the next page. _Oh, and I have to.._ My thoughts are jolted from someone entering the room. _It's after class already?_ "Would it be too much to hope that you have already made your decisions?" I hear Professor Grabiner. I give him a blank look. He literally gave it to me, fucking today, and that's not enough fucking time. I open my mouth to protest, "Just a minute!" but a voice outside interrupts. And it's owner comes in. _It's fucking William._ "Sorry to burst in, sir." he says. "I promised my sister I'd serve as Amira's campaign manager." he informs. _Just fucking peachy._ "You don't have to stay. I know how much you have to do. I can talk her through the steps and deliver the requisitions to you later." he says. Professor raises a brow at him, before looking at me. "Is this what you want, Miss Fatima?" Professor Grabiner asks. _Well. I know Virginia wants me to work with William. But Ellen might get severely jealous, and then that's both roommates that hate me._ "Actually, sir-I would like to work with you." I say-pointedly ignoring the wide-eyed William. Professor Grabiner furrows his brows, "And why is that?" with a frown. "With all due respect, this isn't Virginia's campaign-nor is it William's for that matter." I shrug. "If I'm going to run for and actually hold class office, I prefer to do it by my own merits. My own decisions." I say. "Interesting. However, a leader is wise to take advantage of the resources made available to her." Professor Grabiner says, fucking smirking at me, and it takes me a moment. _He's testing me?_ No, he's..? _Fine. I'll play that fucking game._ "But, sir." I blink at him, standing up. "I was hoping to benefit from your _wisdom_ and _experience,_ if I may be so bold." I give a showy half-bow. He gives a low chuckle at my act. I sit down and start looking through the papers.

"Well.." William starts, "I suppose I'll be on my way, then." he says, before making his exit. "Well, then." I hear Professor Grabiner. "As you should be aware, what I need from-" he starts, but I pipe in. "Basically, main theme elements, right?" I say. "Indeed." I hear him frown at me for interrupting him. "It is traditional for candidates to adopt a ludicrous nickname in the hopes of associating positive virtues with themselves in the voters' minds." he informs. "This slogan and associated imagery will be used to design any marketing materials you requisition. The school will create and produce these items for you." he says. "Have you decided on such a name?" he asks. I sigh. _Something..unique._ Ludicrous. _Funny._ I widen my eyes, "Lady Lampshade Head." thinking out loud. "Lady...Lampshade." he tries, the look on his face from my peripheral vision asking me _what._ "Well, you said all the campaign nicknames are ludicrous, right?" I raise my brow. "Though I fail to see why they really make much difference." I say. "Nobody votes for someone just because he's called Stan the Man instead of Grand Stan." I try to make an example. "Perhaps you overestimate the intelligence of the average student." he says. _And I can hear that fucking sneer._ "Maybe." I shrug. "It's just that I prefer to go with an obvious joke rather than tear myself up about," I kink my fingers, "perfection." I say, then look at him. "And the pro is, if everyone's being serious about it, I'll stand out." I inform him of my _plan._ "Interesting." he raises his brows minutely.

"The other issue you must decide now is what marketing materials you wish to order." he says. "While the school will acquire the items for you, you must bear the cost from your own pocket." he informs. _Just fucking peachy._ "They are a waste of resources, of course, but they are traditional. _Tradition_ can be the deciding factor." he says. I raise a brow. _Tradition. I'll keep that in mind._ He hands me a list of things I can order, and their respective prices. "Posters, and paper badges." I take a pen, and put a check mark by the two, taking out ten bucks, then handing everything back to him. "The supplies will be delivered to your room in the morning." he says, taking them. "Good day, Miss Fatima." he nods, and as he walks out, I swear I saw a _fucking smile._ Not one of those nasty ones. _Don't you dare, Amira._ And thankfully, I let it go for the day.

* * *

"Good day, Miss Fatima." I nod, making my way out. _Her innocent_ _façade hides_ _a rather unusual girl. She had made her decisions forthwith. The girl also holds a sense of humor._ I cannot help the small smile the creeps on my face.

 _She was-is,_ I correct my thoughts, _going to prove rather entertaining._

After handing the materials to Petunia, whilst heading to my rooms, I realize, the reason as to why she was embarrassed due to my arrival early in the day...was that she was under dressed. I flush, willing such morbid imagery from my mind-just then, a flash of her choice of word came to mind. _Unusual, indeed._

* * *

First thing in the morning, the campaign materials arrive. I have a stack of six posters, reading 'Lady Lampshade-Head for Treasurer! Vote for Amira Fatima!' with a comical background. I snort. _This is Professor Potsdam's work._ I set them aside for now. We'll have to find places to stick them later. I also have green colored paper badges, cut into the shape of a lampshade. All of them have 'Amira Fatima for Treasurer' on them with shiny, glittery gold ink. We'll have to find somewhere with high traffic to be able to hand these out. The badge on the bottom has two fucking tiny fang marks, around one of the letters. _Weird._ "Okay, are we ready?" I hear Virginia, and look to see her picking up the posters. "I suppose.." Ellen says. "Go Team Amira!" Virginia whoops, going down the hall. I roll my eyes, and toss the bad badge without another thought.

Later, after hanging the posters, me and the girls spend the next hour catching people, and introducing me as a candidate and giving them badges to wear. Some people give me funny looks at the lampshades. _Clearly, my plan is original._ I celebrate internally. Today, I wanted to do track, but Virginia tells me about some basketball match with the team that's gonna happen on Sunday. When I successfully throw the ball in the hoop from quite a ways away, "Nice throw!" I hear behind me. I turn around to see who the fuck it is, tightening my high ponytail, and I see Kyo. A sophomore from Wolf Hall. Even though he's a member of the sports club, I don't even know him all that well. _So what would..? Oh._ "Thanks. You wanna play one-on-one?" I assume. "Actually, I came over to ask you a question." he says, becoming sheepish when I raise a brow at him. "Okay.." I say, apprehensive. "Shoot." I eye his fidgeting form curiously. "Well..I have this friend, who likes this girl.." he trails off, looking away. I furrow my brows. _What in the actual fuck._ "Only she's never really paid any attention to him." he adds, quickly. "So, since _you're_ a girl," _Well, wow. I'm flattered._ I raise my eyebrows. _..Really._ "I thought maybe you could tell me how to make a girl like me-" he says, "-my friend." he hurriedly corrects. _I have an idea._

"Wait, is this about me?" I play innocent. "What? No." he says. "So you don't like me." I put on a pout. "I like you, just not like _that.._ " he looks away, flush. "And why not?" I ask. _It's coming together._ "I don't know!" he pitches, uncomfortable. "You think I'm ugly, is that it?" I try my best 'upset' voice. "No! You're just not her!" he exclaims, trying to explain, pitifully. I let a few moments pass by before I grin. "Gotcha." I say. "What?" he blinks, worried. "I'm not mad at you. I was just kidding." I say, and he frowns a bit, processing the information. "Also, I don't like you either." I add. "Hey.." he begins, and goes red when he realizes. "..Oh." he finishes, lamely. "Now, you have experienced the awkward parts." I pat his shoulder. "Good luck!" I say, grinning. He laughs. "I think I'm sorry I asked." he rubs the back of his neck.

_You should be. I don't know shit about dating. But still, that was fun._

Later in the day, Virginia stampedes in, grabbing my arm. "Is it true?!" she asks, frantically. "Huh-wha-?" is all I can fucking manage. "You! And Professor Grabiner!" she exclaims. "Huh?" I furrow my brows, _what the hell is she saying, now?_ "William said you ditched him because you wanted alone-time with the professor," she says, and I rear back, spluttering, enraged. "and you were practically _flirting_ with him!" she finishes her _oh-so-knowing fucking accusation._ "That is not what fucking happened." I say, clearly-trying to keep my fucking calm. She releases me, and holds up her hands. "Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating just a little bit. But that's not the point!" she explains. "Exaggerating just a little fucking bit?! You call coming into here like a fucking _buffalo,_ " I insult her, seeing red, and she winces. "and grabbing me like I'm your latest fucking toy, then accusing me of _flirting with a fucking teacher,_ a tiny fucking exaggeration?!" I roar, red-faced, and extremely fucking pissed. And she has the gal to make a fucking kindergartner _Oooooooo_ at me. "Amira, have you got a crush on _Grabby?_ " she asks, her tone childish. _Crush._ I register, giving an indignant squeak. _Grab-Grabiner._ And my anger runs away with it's tail of fury between it's legs, _mortification_ fucking charging it's way in. And the knowing twinkle in her eyes _isn't fucking helping._ But after I ask myself, do I like him that way, I almost immediately sober. _I like his voice. I like his eyes. But I don't know him. But so far, he's been, pretty much an asshole to me save for his apology and I don't even-_

"Hmm?" she huddles closer to me, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Um.." I begin, furrowing my brows. "A little?" I try, frowning. "Maybe." I say, as she pulls away. "So what?" I look at her. "But he's _horrible!_ " she laughs. "He's _grumpy._ " I correct. "He picked on you on your very first day of school!" she reminds. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." I say. "But's it's not like I'm in _love_ or anything." I shrug. "He's older, he's intelligent..and he's not bad-looking." I count. "Eeeeeeeew." Virginia sticks her tongue out, before laughing. "Well, have it your way." she says.

On Wednesday morning, campaigning is in full fucking swing. Everyone-not just the ones in my year, its the fucking upperclassmen, too-has taken up positions in the main quad, calling out to everyone and then handing them colorful bits of paper. It's loud, crowded, and very fucking confusing. Some of the older students are displaying magical fucking sparkles above their heads to draw all of the fucking attention to themselves. _Just fucking peachy._ "Angela for President!" I hear some guy advertise. "Kirgen for Secretary!" I hear a girl chime. "Vote for Jacob!" I hear closer to me. _Jacob._ I feel my brow twitch. "Vote for me!" I exclaim, but my voice is drowned out by the others. _I need a fucking plan. So they fucking notice me, already._ And I let rip the first fucking thing that comes to mind.

"Free hugs! Free hugs!" I call, adrenaline pumping. "What?" someone who happened to be nearby halted to give me a funny look. I glomp him for a quick hug, and he flushes. "Vote for me!" I grin. "Um..okay." he looks away, and the pink fucking fairy comes up. "Oh, did I hear someone say free hugs?" she asks. I detach myself from Luke, and extend my arms to her, furrowing my brows, halting in place, when her wings give a flutter. _They look fragile. What if I fucking break them?_ She doesn't seem to have that fear, as she wraps herself around me, so that my cheek is on her shoulder, and my chin on her boob. _And I just fucking realize, she's a fucking amazon._ Hesitantly, I put my arms around her waist. _It's just a fucking hug,_ I tell myself, _and her fucking hips move._ "Um..vote for me?" I say, refusing to look at her. "Perhaps." she says, and I can see people lining up behind her. _This will be fucking hell._

Amazingly, everything goes by pretty fast, and before I know it, it's Friday-the time where the officer candidates make their fucking speech before the elections. Since we can't vote for Senior elections, we don't have to come. And vice-versa. The freshmen slot is the last one in the day, but I come back after I eat to see the sophomore campaigns, hoping for inspiration. Now I have a slightly better idea of what the fuck to say, but with every pro comes a fucking con. _Just fucking peachy._ Soon enough there's speeches by the candidates for the Freshmen Class President. Minnie comes up on the stage, bright-eyed and enthusiastic, and says a bunch of stuff about offering a 'helping hand' to other students. Everyone applauds. Then Suki Sato comes up, spouting bullshit about a caterpillar that turned into a fucking lizard instead of a moth, and I stopped listening there.

After that, it's the presentations for Treasurer. Jacob Blaising- _'The Blazing Fire'_ -struts up and gives a very brief speech about how money is _obviously_ in safe hands with him, and that fact he knows how to spend it, too. Everybody claps, and some asshole hoots in approval. Then, it's my fucking turn. _Just fucking peachy._ I take a deep breath, heading up to the stage. "My name is Amira Fatima, and I'm running for class treasurer." I say no more than necessary. "In managing money, I will increase accountability through careful record-keeping so that everyone can see exactly where the funds come from, and how they are used." I say. "As is my job, I will be managing class fundraising events." I say, and I remember something Professor Grabiner mentioned earlier in the week. _Tradition can be the deciding factor._ "I will work hard to promote our traditional events so they will be more successful than ever." I say, and I hear agreeable whispers in the crowd. "The most important thing I will bring to the table is class spirit. Dedication. When it comes to money, I will leave no stone unturned." I say, before smiling. "So please vote for Lady Lampshade-Head!" I say, and everyone applauds. _Is it just me, or did I do better than Jacob?_

Finally, it's time for the actual fucking voting. Everyone's lined up, single-file, in the hallway, leading to one of the classrooms. One at a time, we go inside to cast a fucking vote. Each student is given two pieces of paper containing a list of names for each office, and a pencil. You circle the name you want to vote for, then chuck it in the box. When I receive mine, I circle Minnie Cochran's name for President. And..since there's only me a Jacob, I circle my own name for Treasurer. And that's that. I put the slips in the box. After all the votes are counted, we assembled again in the gymnasium for the fucking results.

"The position of Freshmen Class Treasurer will be held by.." I hear Professor Potsdam's starry voice, and I realize I'm fucking holding my breath. "Amira Fatima!" she sings. And I release that breath. I won. _I fucking won._ "And I'm proud to announce this year's Freshmen Class President will be..." she makes a show of looking at her paper. "Minnie Cochran!" she sings. "I'd like to thank you all for your hard work this week. You students are what make Iris Academy truly great." she says. "The teachers will be seeking out the newly elected officers later today to discuss their positions." she informs. "I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!" she sings.

And true to what Professor Potsdam said, I was sought out by Professor Grabiner. "So. You were successful." he says. "Yes, sir." I reply. "Very well. Take these keys-" he says, handing me a small loop of chain about the size of a bracelet that has three bronze keys dangling from it. "-and report here at five a.m tomorrow morning to begin your duties." he instructs. "Five-" I feel my voice catch in my throat. "You _were_ aware of what your duties would involve, weren't you?" he gives me a look-a 'I'm looking at a stupid student' type of fucking look. _Just fucking peachy._ "With all due respect, sir, the day you had given me the information was the very day I had to make plans." I pitch. "And, as the folder was huge, there is no way I would be able to know _everything_ in such a short amount of time." I say. "Do find it in yourself to, say, _forgive_ this _wildseed_ ," I stress, "freshman, sir?" throwing out my complaint I've been holding in the entire week. He sighs. "Duly noted. You may go." he dismisses me.

Saturday, I went to the conference room and of fucking course, the door was locked. But Professor Grabiner had given me the key for entering the room. And for that metal box sitting on the table, next to a stack of envelopes. I have no idea about the third one, but I suppose I'll find that out soon. "Okay." I say to nobody, walking up to the box after closing the door behind me. One envelope for each student, to be labeled with his or her name. Five dollars for each student, to be extracted from the metal box that is currently locked. And placed in the relevant envelope. _Just fucking peachy._

If there's any mistakes they know who exactly to fucking blame. Then, there's a crate of mail I have to go through. Then I have to line up everything with the respective students. And then, I have to deliver everything to all the freshmen. _I have to do this every fucking Saturday for the rest of the fucking year._ Oh, and did I say it, yet? Then I'll say it for extra fucking measure. _Just. Fucking. Peachy._

When I'm done with all the sorting, I head out and begin delivering. Soon, I've reached Butterfly Hall, and I halt. Because there's a _huge fucking bouquet_ pushed up against one of the fucking doors. And guess what, that's _Minnie Cochran's fucking room._ I quickly finish my rounds, hurrying for the conference room. I lock everything up, and go to my room. Which means it's finally fucking over with. I'm free for the day. I decided to study up on more tidbits about the magic world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hinty, Hinty for a bigass WIP.  
> Aaaaaannnd second Grabby Point. :D
> 
> Also, I'm not happy with the next chapters, so I decided against having this one in a '3 consecutive chappie posts' thingy-ma-bobber. So, just a warning-it'll be a long while before I can manage to correct it in such a way I'm going to be happy with it.  
> Edit: Forgot Professor Potsdam's first name in my earlier writing. Changed to Petunia! :D  
> Shame on me...:(
> 
> SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER
> 
> I got busy after getting writer's block forging two characters that will have major roles in this story. One is nearing the halfway done point. xD
> 
> SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER


	9. Just Fucking Peachy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amira's week starts with a Sports Meeting, which leads to a rather traumatizing experience. Luckily, Amira doesn't get expelled, and thankfully, her only two friends were accepting of it.
> 
> She also learns the existence of sexless entities, as well as those who are capable of changing at will-as well as their ability to be both at once.  
> "Don't forget they can be more than just the fucking two."  
> At the end of the week, she meets a fairy,  
> "That thing was fucking tiny."  
> and a werebeast,  
> "Is that what you fucking call it?"  
> who prefers to be addressed as male.  
> "I really wanted those glasses....."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've decided to actually do this chapter my own way. Be prepared for tears. Dx I had to take frequent breaks to stop myself from sobbing up a storm and freaking people out in my house. XD
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

It's Sunday morning, and the Sports Club is having a meeting. Or rather, a game. Virginia's got the ball and is dribbling it across the floor towards Ellen at the goal. Kyo cuts in to try and steal, but Virginia sidesteps. A twist, a lunge, and a swift kick sends to flying towards to goal-"What are you guys doing?" I vaguely hear, but I don't give a fuck right now-where Ellen successfully blocks it. "This is a Sports Club meeting. What are _you_ doing here?" Virginia confronts-Oh. It's Jacob. _Just fucking peachy._ "Maybe I want to play. I'm a fit guy, right?" he says. "Fine, whatever." Virginia accepts and I blanch. "All right." he says, closing his eyes briefly and a wave of fucking Green Magic surrounds him. I was about to hook horns with the asshole, but Virginia beats me to it. "Hey! You can't do that!" Virginia exclaims. "Do what?" he frowns, asking innocently. _Didn't he fucking see that we weren't fucking playing with fucking magic?!_ "No magic allowed." Virginia says, firmly. "What are you talking about? We're _wizards._ " the asshole states like it's the most obvious fucking thing. I squeak, indignant, _because there is wildseeds in this fucking club, and the only fucking thing they know is fucking normal, not-_ "This is _real_ sports, not bounders!" Virginia argues. _Yeah, not fucking bounders of the magical ka-boom-ha-yay superpower asshole brats!_ I seethe. "What's going on?" Kyo chips in. "This one," Jacob says, gesturing to Virginia in the most insulting way possible, "says you guys are refusing to do magic. What's the point of that?" he says. " _This one?_ " Virginia bristles. "Well..that's how we've been doing it in Sports Club." Kyo says. "That's just _wrong._ " Jacob says. _You're the fucker that's wrong._ "It's unnatural." he says. _And you're not unnatural?!_ I see red seep into my vision. "You're letting your talents go to waste." he says, fucking insinuating that _Magic is a fucking game_ that _everybody should know_ and like it's _not fucking deadly, period._ Accidents fucking happen. And said accidents can be fatal. That's the last. _Fucking. **Straw.**_ And I blow up at him.

"You. Jacob Blazing-Asshole. Are the unnatural one! Can't you _see_ that there are freaking _wildseeds_ here as well?!" I feel everyone's eyes on me, and a few snickers at what I called him. "Not thinking about the freaking _fact_ that some here are freaking _freshmen_ from normal homes?!" I seethe at him. He opens his mouth for an argument, _but I won't fucking let him._ "It's completely normal for them to want to play like this-the way they are most familiar playing! It is freaking natural for them to not want show off like some _conceited rich fucking_ brat like you!" I roar. "And mess up horribly!" I add, leaving out the fact that _people can die._ "Amira-" I hear Ellen, but I keep going. "You're thinking this is some 'kiddie games', huh, aren't you?! Well, fuck off-" I shove him-vaguely noticing I sent the asshole flying. "Amira!" Ellen gasps. "-and play your oh-so-fucking precious adult stuff!" I feel Virginia pull me back away from the fucker. "And since you already grew a fucking pair of _oh-so-talented_ and _yay-I'm-immortal_ balls, congrats on your fucking Graduation Sir Blazing. Get your royal fucking ass out of here!" I yell, and Ellen grabs hold of me, too. "Amira, now's not the time." I hear Virginia through a tunnel, and see a blur of- _Kyo?-_ helping the fucker. Suddenly, I can't move. I can't even talk.

 _"Back away from her!"_ I hear an older woman-is that Professor Potsdam..?-and Virginia and Ellen release me. Inwardly, because I can't fucking move, _and I_ _can't even fucking talk,_ I panic. I go way back.

_No, no, no. Has someone gotten hurt by me again?! I didn't do it! **I didn't fucking mean it!** Dad, where are you?! I need you! She's gonna- **Please don't fucking hurt me!**_

Then everything goes black.

And I wake up. Crying. Scared-no, fucking terrified. "Are you awake, now, dearie?" I hear. _Professor Potsdam._ I choke, in what? Fucking relief? Professor Potsdam..is going to expel me. I screw my eyes shut. "Look at me, little star." she coos. _No. I'm scared._ "Please?" I hear her, and I choke again, forcing myself to look at her. And I break down. I bawl like a fucking baby, and she holds me until I calm down.

It takes awhile, a _long_ while for me to stop-because my tears fucking ran out. I sniff, nose stuffed. Eyes swollen and fucking puffy. I reach to wipe off the excess tears in my eyes that's blurring my vision, and she loosens her hold on me. "You need help, dearie." she pets my head. _No fucking way._ I think, sarcastically. "Magical help." she says. _Magical..?_ I look at her, curious. "Assuming you don't remember..?" she trails. I shake my head fervently. "Not too much. Blurry. Fuzzy...and..." I trail, sniffing again, eyeing her. "Tell me." she coaxes, rubbing my arm comfortingly. I hesitate. But she waits. "Red. Like, in a tunnel. Everything." I try to explain. She's waiting. For me to get myself together. I smile. "It's blurry and fuzzy, but everything was echoing. I could only see everything in like, this crimson tint. But like, I was deep in a tunnel. A black tunnel." I explain, and she nods. "And, sounds were like, _way_ off in the distance, on the other side." I say, and she hums thoughtfully. "Of a tunnel." I add. After a few moments of silence, "Okay, dearie, may I ask you something?" she asks. I nod, apprehensive. "Did you _feel_ anything?" she asks. "...rage." I whisper. "Not limited to emotion, little star." she says. "Forgive me, but I must know this.." she frowns. "Did it feel as if _someone_ or _something_ was worming its way inside you?" she asks, her tone serious, concerned. At that question, I have to think. "I.." I try to think back, I try to remember if.. _but I can't._ "I don't know." my voice cracks. She hums. "This had happened before?" she asks. I nod. "Multiple times?" she asks. I nod, fervently. _Too many to count._ She hums, then gets up. "Then you must have gone numb to it.." she trails, waving her wand in the air-heading off to the side. "Hieronymous, in a sense, you were right." I hear clearly. I furrow my brows. The rest, I try to make out from where I am, but because she's whispering on the other side of the room, I can't hear much.

_"...get it?"_

_"Then.."_

_"..student...academy..."_

I stop listening. Because I'm not getting enough to puzzle together what she's saying. _Hieronymous. Wait, that's...Professor Grabiner._ I suddenly remember. I hear her sigh in exasperation. "Very well. I will have someone else go." she says, then cuts her wand through the air. She turns to me, all smiles. "Alright, dearie." she claps, heading back to me. "Soon, you will receive an item to protect you from such attacks." she says, gently. I blink. "Either me or Professor Grabiner will personally deliver it by next Sunday-but for now, I have created a special barrier around you." she says. I blink at her. _She's speaking to me like I'm a fucking child._ "Do you want me to accompany you to your dorm, dearie?" she asks. _But considering I was bawling like one not too fucking long ago, of course, she would._ I shake my head. "Alright, dearie." she smiles as I get up. She leads me to the door, and opens it with a charming smile. "Off you go, twinkle star." she sings. And I go. Behind me, the light from her room fades from existence. Literally. I spin around and _see a fucking wall._ I immediately sober from all the events. _Fucking magic._ And I notice that I am literally in Horse Hall. And the fact that it's _fucking night time._

I'm scared. _What will Ellen and Virginia think of me after that fucking stunt?_ I halt in front of our door. _Will they be terrified of me?_ I hesitantly reach for the knob. _Of course, they will be._ I clench my hand mid-air, steeling myself. _I'm a fucking monster._ As quietly as I can, I open the door. A nightlight was on, and the beds were stripped of their covers. The girls. _Were on the floor. With my fucking pillow._ I feel tears flow. _In the fucking middle._ Ellen was fighting sleep, and Virginia had succumbed-snoring softly. When I released a sob, Ellen jolted awake to see me. She then proceeded to wake Virginia up. "Huhwha..?" Virginia slurs. I laugh the best I can, in tears. "Oh, Amira.." Virginia frowns. Both of them reach for me. I close the door closed behind me, I get in between them. I eventually cry myself to sleep.

The next morning, after our beds are made and we're dressed, Virginia grins. "Happy Thanksgiving!" she whoops. "Huh? But it's Colum-" Ellen begins, but is interrupted. "No!" Virginia exclaims. "It's not that day." she furrows her brows. Ellen and I blink, confused. "Not here." Virginia says. "Why not?" Ellen asks. "That guy cause a lot of trouble. We don't say his name." Virginia informs, sheepish. "My fault, I should have told you guys earlier." she says. "The way the native people and the newcomers mixed out is a little different than it is for the non-magical history." she informs. "We have 'strong ties', is what my mom says. Sacred Smoke takes, like, a fourth of all the magical students in the US. And around here, the local spirits were dealing with them way before us." she says. "So a lot of our rituals and celebrations come from them." she informs. Ellen blinks, not following. "So this is Thanksgiving?" Ellen states-more than she's asking. "Not really, I was kidding." Virginia says. I snort, rolling my eyes. "It's _Canadian_ Thanksgiving." I inform Ellen. "Oh." Ellen says. We all open our schedules, and I decide to take Green Magic for the week.

Monday I try to learn, but a lot of it flies over my head. Tuesday, I learn Heal. _That'll come in handy._

Wednesday, Professor Potsdam is in slightly earlier than usual. As we file in, she speaks. "Please, kits and cubs, take your seats." she sings. "There are some things we should talk about before your magical education progresses any further." she says. I blanch at her tone. _Wait, is this.._ "Most of you know yourselves as either a boy or a girl, and that identity may be important to you." she says. _Fucking sex-ed?!_ "But even with humans, sex is not always as simple as 'male' or 'female' with nothing in-between." she informs. I blink, very confused. _She's talking about fucking 'gender'._ "And in the magical world, there are many more possibilities which you should be aware and respectful of." she informs, answering my question on what the fuck. I release a silent 'Oh.' looking away. _Wait a fucking moment._ I immediately shift my gaze back at her. "Some entities are sexless and will be confused if you address them by masculine or feminine terms." she says. Again, I fucking blanch. _It's not fucking unheard of, but still._ "Some can change gender roles at will, or be both at once." she informs. _Change. Roles? At once..what._ "Some beings have more than two sexes." she says. _More than-oh my fucking God._ "All of which can be difficult for the English language to cope with." she smiles. _This is flying over my fucking head._ "Many living beings will take offense to being referred to as 'it', although not at all." she informs. _Makes sense._ "It is wise to ask those you meet how they prefer to be addressed." she informs. "To make things easier, we witches and wizards have our special pronouns when gender is other or unknown." she informs. "Now, repeat after me: E, em, eir, eirs, emself." she instructs, and we repeat every word. _Some, including me, with some difficulty._ "And, there's a way to remember." she claps once, all smiles. "Someone with enough magic can say whatever e wants!" she recites. Lessons begin.

 _Okay, so some 'entities' are sexless. They will be confused if you refer to them as a male or female. Which makes sense. Next, some of them-I mean, em,_ I correct myself, _can change from male to female as they will._ And for some reason, Damien pops into my brain. _Or be both at once._ I will back a shudder of disgust. _And be more than just the fucking two._ I force my brain onto the next subject. _And of course, they'd take offense to being referred to as 'it'. I mean, who fucking wouldn't. And there's also 'special' fucking pronouns for this stuff, too._ In my head, I recite them. _E, em, eir, eirs, emself._ _E, em, eir, eirs, emself._ And one more fucking time for memory's sake. _E, em, eir, eirs, emself._

And of course, I fail the fucking lesson, because I was too busy processing what the fuck just happened. _Just fucking peachy._ I make sure to pay extra attention on Thursday because I wanted to make up for my failure the previous day. I learn Boost Strength. Everything goes as usual until Friday morning, when I hear a knock on the door. I open the door to Minnie. "Hello, Amira!" she smiles. "Um...hi?" I greet, furrowing my brows. _What's the fucking President doing here?_ "I'm just making the rounds to invite everyone to Saturday study sessions." she informs. "Oh." I say, dumbly. "If you need help with any of your classes, I'll be available in the library on Saturdays." she says. I blink. "Thanks." I reply. "Okay, bye!" she hurries off. _Huh._ On Saturday, I get up really fucking early to deliver mail and allowances. When I finish, I put the carrier bag back, and make sure everything inside is locked, before locking the door behind me. I stretch dramatically and make my way back to my rooms. _Hurray for being free for the day._ I have 25 bucks, so I decide to go to the mall and shop for _magical_ implements.

When I arrive, it looks like a dead end and there's only one shop front that has a 'Coming Soon' sign hanging inside the glass of the door. _But I feel a tingle of something. Beside it...?_ Curious, I step closer-with caution, of course, because who knows what shit could be at work. Magic or not. _I will fucking run if it's fucking bad._ When I get closer, a patch of wall next to the door blurs and shimmers to reveal another fucking door. With a fucking star on it. I squint at the squiggly cutesy print. _'Marvelous Magical Accoutrements'._ I blink, _a misspelling..?_ I shrug it off and head inside. There's tons of things in here. And a literal _fucking fairy floats in front of my face._ "Student?" I hear a squeak. When the tiny being tilts it's head, _uh, I mean, 'eir' head._ "Y-Yes?" I stutter because _e_ is just so fucking _tiny._ But those fucking _eyes._ Those _big, beady, black eyes._ "Follow." e squeaks, fluttering off to a section. I follow, obediently. E halts midair, and I halt behind em, confused. E points off in the distance, and I follow the direction to see a snoozing large hairy-it looks _like a guy. Seriously. No shirt, male physique.-_ creature of some fucking sort. Es long animalesque, fuzzy ears twitch. "Clerk." I hear the tiny fairy squeak, and then e flutters off. I browse the section, and see a pair of glasses I liked, but there's also a wand. Which costs every fucking dollar I have. I decide to purchase the wand, because I fucking broke the one they gave me, and they won't give me a new one. It's a plain, polished fucking _stick_ charged with bits of all the colors of magic. I put the glasses down, sadly, because I really want them, but needs come first.

"Um...?" I hum, sheepishly, once I make my way to the register. The clerk blinks awake, and upon sight of me, e sobers. "Sir." he informs me of his preferred form of address in a gruff growl. _Probably because I'm new._ I purchase the wand, and head to join the other students to return to Iris Academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My only excuse for Amira's blowup is she's a juvenile(young) magical being. :P


	10. Not Quite Human, though not without a Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amira gets a physical exam-with Magic.  
> "It fucking tickled."  
> She also finds out she is; Not Quite Human.  
> "I'm fucking human!"  
> Which is why I said 'Not Quite'. She manages to pass a rather tricky exam-though she breaks her new wand.  
> "It was 25 fucking bucks! Quack!"  
> And, apparently, her skull as well.  
> "A fucking hallucination.."  
> Professor Grabiner's magic is painfully familiar,  
> "His..."  
> and when she tells him the only way she knew how-  
> "He left. Fucking asshole."  
> Admit it, you totally like Grabby.  
> "Shut up!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was pure hell to write. I stressed over it for a loooong time, until I found something 'unique'... >:D
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

Sunday morning, I feel something ticklish worm it's way into my fucking brain. Something _familiar._ Like..the first exam. I furrow my brows. "Amira, dearie." I hear Professor Potsdam. "There are several spells I must rearrange, and cast." she says. "Thus, I would like to perform something of a _physical_ examination on you so I may do so correctly." she says. I blink. _I didn't know that._ But there's a fucking con. "And if you don't?" I ask, and Ellen looks at me weirdly. I pointedly ignore her for the moment. "You will experience discomfort, dearie." she says. I frown. _That doesn't tell me shit._ "Alright." I sigh. "Good. Meet me in my room, twinkle star." I can hear her smiling. _But I don't know where the-_ "Outside, Amira." she answers, knowingly. The tickle recedes and I feel a slight, I don't fucking know-breeze? But it wasn't a air-breeze or anything like that-outside my fucking door. And weird thing is, Ellen didn't even fucking notice it. I get up, and head to the door. "Professor Potsdam wants to do a checkup." I inform Ellen. "Oh. Okay." she lets it slide, going back to her book.

Once I open it, I see Professor Potsdam's room. Literally. With no fucking hallway. _Magic._ "Come on in, Amira." she sings. I head out-well, _in,_ closing the door behind me. And I feel that same fucking 'breeze' behind me. I look back behind me, and there's just a fucking dark oak door. Nothing else. I feel my brow tick. _What the fuck._ "You can feel it?" I hear Professor Potsdam. I snap my head back to her, nervous. "Now _that_ certainly makes things interesting." she has a gleam in her eyes. "First, I will ask you questions. Then, according to your answers, I will have you partially strip so I may perform a physical examination." she informs. I blanch. "Don't worry, we're both girls." she giggles. _No fucking comfort to me._ "Alas, I must also use magic to probe you." she says. _Just fucking peachy._ "Starting now, I am your acting doctor, Amira. Okay?" she says, in an attempt to make me feel more comfortable. I nod, reluctantly. "Don't worry, I know what I am doing, dearie." she reassures with a smile.

"First, I understand you have an underdeveloped uterus?" she says. I squeak. _How in the fuck-_ "I have my ways, dearie." she smiles, knowingly. "Menstrual cycle?" she asks. I shake my head. _No._ Question after fucking question, the ones typical in a normal doctor's visit. I shake my head or nod in reply. And then, I see a very hard-to-see green colored aura around her hands-and it's like, I can only see with one eye. "Alright, dearie. Remove your robes?" I hear, but I squint at her hands. _What the fuck?_ "Oh?" her voice rings. "You can see my Green Magic?" she smiles. I furrow my brows, looking at her face now. "Um.." I hesitate, "..yes?" I say, unsure. "Kind of." I add. "Very well, I will also take a look at your eyes. Leave no stone unturned!" she sings. "One eye." I correct her. She blinks at me, with a hum of confusion. "My left one." I say. "Alrighty." she says, and motions to my robes. I take them off. "Arms up." she instructs, and I do as told. She puts one hand on the left side of my chest, just below my collarbone, and below my left breast, just under my fucking bra. I feel something wiggly, squirming around inside of me, delicately poking and prodding around my heart. And eventually, the weird feeling goes away.

"Okay." Professor Potsdam says to herself, motioning for me to turn around, and I do as told. She presses her hands flat against my upper back, and I feel the same fucking thing in my lungs. _But this time, it fucking tickles in the weirdest fucking way._ I can't fight off the cough-but-not-a-cough that comes up, and she giggles. "It's completely normal, dear." she informs. Eventually, this recedes as well, and she places her hands flat against my lower-middle-ish back, where my kidneys are. "This may feel slightly uncomfortable." she forewarns. And I feel slight prickly sensations around my kidneys. Not the painful kind of prickly, I mean the really, _really weird_ kind of prickly. _You know, numb feeling light pricks of what has to be the dullest fucking pin in the fucking world._ Eventually, I feel the pricks retreat. "Alrighty. Turn around, dear." she instructs, and I, once again, do as told.

She does the same for my spleen and then my liver. _Both of which felt weird._ "Almost done, dearie." she smiles, kneeling before me, probing my lower stomach. But this time, she furrows her brows, probing certain areas several times before she goes onto the next one, pressing her thumb just below my pantie line. I look at her curiously, _because she looks worried._ "Odd." she says. She gets up. "You are indeed underdeveloped, Amira." she frowns. "For lack of better words, _shriveled,_ dear." she informs, and I fucking blanch. "You do have a canal, ovaries, and a womb, but you do _not_ have an entrance for the male sex." she puts it bluntly and I go from pale to beet fucking red in seconds. _She means a fucking penis._ I squirm under her gaze. "I have never seen anything like this in the select few _humans,_ " she says, and that last word gets my attention. "that I have known to be diagnosed with the Mayer Rokitansky Küster Hauser syndrome." she says, tone serious. _Humans._ "Humans?" I ask-the same fucking time I think it. "Amira.." she begins, with a frown. "You are a magical being-originally sexless." she says. "You were taught about anatomy," she says, and I nod in affirmation. "and you unconsciously formed human organs." she says. I blink.

 _And suddenly, I remember Dad holding me. I remember hearing his heartbeat for the first time._ I widen my eyes. _I remember wanting to have that soothing rhythm._ But why? _Because I didn't have it?_ "No." I say. _I didn't have a heart._ But I fucking do now, because it's fucking racing. "I'm human." I deny what she says. Moments of silence pass by, and I get dressed. "Alright, Amira-I have no right to say you're not human, period, and that you had no choice in the matter; only you can identify yourself. But you had to know, okay?" she says, with a smile. "One last thing, and it will all be over." she says as I finish dressing. "Close your left eye." she instructs. And I do as told. _Because I want to get this fucking thing over with already._ She gently presses her thumb against my eyelid. I feel a delicate weave of magic in my eye, but it quickly vanishes. "Okay." Professor Potsdam smiles. "I know what to do, now. You may go, dearie." she says.

And before I open the fucking door, I feel the fucking breeze from earlier. I halt in my fucking tracks, looking back at her. "Have fun!" she waves. And I open the door to Horse Hall, step out, and the door closes behind me. I look. _Yup. It also fucking disappeared._ I sigh, then go back to my room.

The next morning, after we're all ready, Virginia starts talking. "Hey, guys, I just thought I should warn you-the next exam is Friday." she informs. _Just fucking peachy._ "But the end of the month isn't until next week!" Ellen exclaims. "Don't look at me, I don't make the rules." Virginia laughs. "Will it be like the first one?" I furrow my brows. "Nothing doing." she shrugs. "This time they drop us in a pit full of alligators and we have to fight our way out." she tries. I frown deeply. "You are such a liar." Ellen huffs in annoyance. _Ditto._ "It's not a lie if it's funny!" Virginia grins. _Getting chucked into a fucking pit full of fucking alligators and risking fucking death isn't fucking funny._ But I decide against arguing with her. "Do you know anything _real?_ " I ask. "I'm pretty sure we'll be in the dungeons, 'cause pretty much all the exams are." she says. "But I don't know what they're gonna make us do." she adds. "William said that after the first time we have to cast real spells we've learned in class, so we can't just fake it with wild magic." she informs. _Just fucking peachy._

We write in our schedules for the week. I decide to rest for today, and do gym on Tuesday and Wednesday. I pencil in Red Magic Class for Thursday and Friday. Tuesday, after track, I see Virginia looking quite upset. _Unusually quiet._ I step towards her, cautiously. "You..okay?" I ask, hesitant. "Huh? Yeah." she obviously fakes a smile. "Are you done?" she asks. "With track? Yeah." I affirm, suspicious. "Let's go back." she says. I follow beside her, eyeing her, and even her loud steps are now subdued. "Something _is_ wrong." I conclude out loud. "I'm just thinking." she tries, lamely. When we're in our room, she sits on her bed with a loud sigh. "When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?" she asks, her tone dejected. "Dunno." I snort, remembering one thing that still stuck with me over the years. "A bad ass mother fucker?" I try in a way to lighten the mood. Thankfully, she gave a half-hearted laugh. _At least something._ "What about you?" I throw back the question. "I wanted to be a professional athlete. I wanted to play in the Olympics and have my face of cereal boxes." she sighs, wistfully. "But I knew what I had to grow up to be was a witch." she says.

"But can't you do both?" I ask. "No!" she snaps. "It's not allowed." she says. "Witches aren't allowed to be athletes or rock stars or anything..anything that might make them famous. Anything that might make them _seen._ " she frowns. _Witches. But what about wizards? Is this a fucking 'women can only be seen, not heard' bullshit law?_ I grit my teeth in anger to stop from bitching about it as she continues. "Once we get our magic, we're not allowed to compete with the people who don't, because they think we'll cheat." she says. "Or because we might get too excited and do magic by accident." she adds. "I don't _want_ to be a witch. Magic is _boring._ I want what I always wanted." she complains. "But I can't have it." she sighs. _I get why she's upset. Frustrated. I get why she didn't want magic in the sports club, now. But there's one thing I don't understand._ "If you don't want to be a witch, then why are you one?" I ask. "I mean, you were given The Choice, right? You could've just said no?" I say. She furrows her brows. "The Choice doesn't work the same way if you're a born witch." she informs. _Oh._

"What do you mean?" I ask, curious. "For you, it's like-choose magic, choose to jump through all these hoops to prove you're good enough to be a witch, or choose to say no, and they take away your magic forever. Right?" she makes sure. I nod. "What do you think happens to a wildseed who says no?" she treads carefully. "They don't get to be one. They get their magic taken." I answer. "How do you think they make sure nobody _tells_ anybody about magic?" she asks. I furrow my brows. "Not only do you get your magic taken, it's your memory, too. So you don't remember that you even had The Choice. You never know magic even existed. Your life goes on like it did before." she informs. _Wow. That's...pretty fucking deep._ "So they wipe your memory?" I ask. "It's all secrets. Nobody who isn't magical is allowed to know about magic. You have to forget." she says. _Ouch._ "So if you're born magic..if your _family_ is magic.." she trails. I stay silent. But something outrageous pops into my head, "They'd kill you?!" and I can't help but burst out loud. "Of course not!" she exclaims. _And I release a breath I didn't know I was holding._ "They'd send me away. They'd make me forget my friends, my family-everything. They'd give me a new life somewhere else, where I could be normal." she informs. _Just fucking peachy._ "And they'd make sure I never came back." she sighs. "I choose my family. But I'm not happy about it." she says.

And the rest of the day goes by in silence. Thursday, I learn Breeze. On Friday, by the appointed time, I make my way to the testing room. _I don't get why they send us to different rooms if they are just going to teleport us into the dungeon, anyway._ I raise my hand. _Unless this time will be different._ I knock. _Nope. I'm getting teleported._ And once again, I find myself in a dungeon. But this time, in a larger area. _And it looks like Virginia was right about there being a fucking pit._ I half-peer down it, extremely cautious-from a safe distance. "Greetings, Amira Fatima. Behold the abyss." a _painfully familiar_ British voice tickled its way into my fucking brain. I chortle to myself, because he sounds amusingly _dry_ with a twinge of exasperation-and is that a higher level of sarcasm than usual? I shake back my laughing fit. "You will find the exit to this dungeon on the other side." he informs. "This dungeon level has been warded. You may not teleport outside this dungeon level. You must cross the abyss in order to succeed." he adds. _Hah._ I cough. "You may choose to surrender at any time, and you will be retrieved safely." he says- _now here's his condescending tone._ "However, you will fail your exam, and receive demerits." he drones. "Good luck." I hear, and the tickle recedes.

And I'm left to stand there, rather dumbly. My heart drops when I come to the fucking epiphany, _that I don't know any fucking spells that could get me fucking across._ When my eyes meet the edge of the other side, I come up with an idea. _A crazy fucking idea, but still, it's an idea._ I use my wand's tip to trace the chant for Boost Strength. I see the tip crumble, _just fucking peachy,_ but I feel stronger. _Another wand bites the fucking dust. Kind of._ I back up a ways. _Hopefully, it's at least still intact._ And I charge like a bat out of fucking hell. Adrenaline fucking pumping as I jump to the other side, I feel my foot- _the tip of my fucking foot to be precise-_ on the fucking ledge. _I didn't time the fucking jump properly._ I see the sweet, _sweet staircase,_ and even though it's inanimate, it's a fucking staircase-it's _waving_ at me. _Wait. I'm falling backwards._ I realize. _Fuck._ ** _"FUCK!"_** I exclaim at the realization and _I fucking pray._ And my wand fucking cracks, but I give zero fucks. _The staircase. Staircase._ Everything moves in slow fucking motion. _Take me to the fucking staircase!_ My heart races, and within a split fucking second, I fall on fucking cement-I hear a _familiar_ crunching shattering sound of something brittle from inside the abyss; a place I am thankful to be out of-hitting my head. _Hard._ I groan, laid out flat on the ground, in pain.

I feel a tickle-turned-throb invade my fucking brain, and I roll over to my side, curling myself up. "Miss Fatima, are you alright? Do you require my assistance?" a concerned voice comes through. "No.." I choke. _Not if you're going to fucking fail me._ I baby myself, raising myself up slowly and steadily. I wobble and lean on the wall. "Miss Fatima-" he begins. "The staircase is literally right fucking in front of me, Professor. You can take a look at my obvious injury _after_ I get my fucking merits and pass the exam, okay?" I snap, and the tickle-turned-throb recedes hesitantly. "Okay." I take a deep breath, gathering myself. And I notice I only have the _handle_ of my fucking wand. The rest fucking broke off. _And I paid 25$ for the fucker, too._ "Just fucking peachy." I sigh loudly. Once I've gathered myself, I make my way up the stairs, emerging from the dungeon. Into the fucking sun, which was too much for my eyes, and I could feel another throb. But I try to keep my cool.

"Congratulations, Amira!" Professor Potsdam sings. "For succeeding in your quest, you receive five merits." she says. "Thanks?" I say, _still fucking adjusting to the fucking sun._ "I hope you enjoyed putting your skills into practice." she smiles. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another-" her voice immediately halts, and she blinks at me. "Oh dear." she frowns at me. "You bumped your head?" she asks, and I wince. "Yes." I say. "But I'm fine." I add quickly. "Really." I assure as she raises her brows at me, averting my gaze. "Very well." she gives a small smile before waltzing off elsewhere. I wrinkle my nose. And just then, I feel the same fucking thing making my head throb again. _"What?"_ I hiss, harsher than I intended-but it fucking hurts when he does that. _And I swear I can hear him frown on the other side._ "I expect to see you in the conference room after exams, and as much as I'd like for it to be _detention_ for your blatant disregard for your health, as well as getting snippy with your superiors, I will let you off with something _simple._ " Professor Grabiner orders through my fucking brain. And the throb recedes. _Just fucking peachy._ I sigh loudly, dragging myself to the conference room. _I was hoping I'd only be seeing the place on fucking Saturdays._

As I'm about to open the door, I hear clinking inside. I open the door hesitantly, peeking in. _And my eyes meet with-I don't know what the fuck it is. It's fucking green. With tiny, black, beady, fucking bulging eyes. And a fucking pig snout. And a long fucking body. With a long fucking tail. Vaguely, like a fucking weasel._ And it's holding a tube of gold colored fucking glitter. _But it's like, ten fucking times longer._ _And it's fucking staring at me._ And I'm fucking staring at _it._ Neither of us move a fucking _centimeter._ "Uh..." I hear myself, and I feel my eyes begin to water from staring at it so long. "Hi...?" I whisper, stupidly. It doesn't fucking answer. It doesn't fucking move. It doesn't even make a fucking sound. I cautiously, _very slowly_ put one foot into the room. _It's a fucking statue? This school has a weird ass looking fucking statue?_ But I hear it fucking squeak. I jump. _But it still doesn't fucking move._ I blanch. "Hi?" I try louder, and again, it doesn't fucking answer. _It just fucking stares at me._ With those tiny, black, beady, fucking bulging eyes.

"Miss Fatima?" I hear from my side, and _I nearly have a fucking heart attack_ as I press myself against the fucking door frame. _I feel my heart leaping out of my throat, and when I see it's Professor Grabiner, it doesn't fucking calm down._ And I'm fucking hyperventilating like a fucking mental patient. _And he's looking at me like I am one._ I glance back inside, _and the fucking thing isn't fucking there anymore,_ and I fucking throw the door open and rush to the box it was in. _It wasn't fucking there._ But the tube of gold colored fucking glitter is. "Miss Fatima?" I hear Professor Grabiner, _like he's fucking questioning my mentality. And quite frankly, I am too._ I turn slowly to him, adrenaline finally fucking calming down, my head fucking _throbbing._ He's frowning deeply. And I can see his fucking frown lines. "Um.." I choke on myself. "Um..sir, I.." I try again. "Out with it." he says, harshly. And I wince. "Um, a hallucination, sir..?" I say, sheepishly. He levels me with an analytical glare. I avert my eyes. Eventually, I hear him sigh in exasperation.

From my peripheral vision, I see him procure his wand, and I feel the tip of it gently press on the back of my head. And then I feel a soothing magic weave through it. And for some reason, the magic is fucking _familiar_ for some fucking reason. _Like.._ And I remember something that I've been too busy to think about. Back then. _Back when I was given The Choice._ I instinctively tense up.

 _"Little girl,"_ he'd said, smoothly. _"are you doing alright?"_

"Miss Fatima?" I hear Professor Grabiner, and I shrink back, _and the floodgates have fucking opened._ I furiously wipe my tears away. _Professor Grabiner didn't use his fucking hand. He used his wand._ I try to reason with myself, but I can't fucking stop. _"Oh?"_ He sounded amused. _"Fatima?"_ I go back down fucking memory lane. And for some fucked up reason, _Professor Grabiner sounds the same._ "Miss _Fatima?_ " he says, concerned-furrowing his brows, tone firmer. _"Are you doing alright?"_ he asks. The. Same. Exact. _Fucking. **Thing.**_ I jolt at his touch. _It's not him._ I tell myself. "Miss Fatima?" through my blurry vision, he looks _genuinely fucking concerned._ I gasp back a sob. _It's not him._ _It's not him._ _It's not him._ _It's not him. **It's not fucking him, Amira!**_ I clench my teeth, trying to convince myself in my daze. "Mm." I hear myself grunt an affirmative. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing those garnet hues from my brain, focusing on my mental attack. _It's not him. It's Professor Grabiner._ I attempt to steady my ragged breathing. _Professor Grabiner has no rings. He's not the type._ I convince myself, and I begin to calm down. _Thankfully, the Professor waits._ Which is something I _really_ fucking need. _Time._ To get a fucking grip.

Once I calm down enough, "Sorry." I apologize with a cracked voice. I'm still covering my eyes because I'm scared I'll cry again if I see his eyes. _He must be confused. I gotta.._ I sniff. _I gotta explain._ "Is something wrong?" he sounds, _uncharacteristically fucking worried._ So I _definitely_ gotta explain. "Magic." I croak. "Your magic...is very, very familiar." I say. "No, it's not just familiar." I correct myself. "I _know_ it." I explain. _I decide to leave out the fact that his voice is very fucking similar._ But he doesn't reply. I uncover an eye and I see him frowning. Deep in thought. _It was like he was off in his own fucking world._ He turned around, leaving. Silently. Leaving me behind. And a few stray tears flow.

And for some stupid fucking reason, I feel my heart break a little. I also realize... _I was hoping he was the one._ I snort at myself. _Asshole._

On Saturday, I get up extremely early in the hopes of _not meeting Professor Grabiner._ It's immature, sure, but I'm mad about him just _leaving_ me like that. I decide to go to the library and take my mind off of the stressful week. Compared to the rest of the school, it's rather small and unimpressive. There was also a slightly outdated set of encyclopedias-meaning Ellen didn't really need to bring her own. There's also a good collection of foreign-language dictionaries. _I'll scour them when I feel like it._ There's also two fucking bookcases worth filled with Magic history. _Those are a definite must read._ I know, I know, I've already been reading _some_ of them, but they fly over my fucking head. _Maybe I should really start looking into the easier ones._ Most of the rest looks like fictional stuff, and there's a fucking magazine rack. Full of those 'popular' magazines. This school actually _subscribes_ to them? I loiter around the Magic history section, when suddenly, I hear someone behind me. "Hi, Amira!" I turn around to see Minnie. "Do you need help with anything?" she asks. "Um..yes, actually." I reply. She helps me with my Black Magic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I had to do it.
> 
> Again, Hinty Hinty. :D


	11. The Dark Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the week of the Dark Dance. Everyone has to attend. However, Amira receives a letter a day before the ritual,  
> "And he fucking pisses me off."  
> Ellen gets rejected..  
> "Poor thing."  
> ..and Amira tries to lighten the mood.  
> "He fucking deserves it, the fucking pretty boy."  
> Amira's still avoiding Professor Grabiner.  
> "Will you just fucking stop, already?! I said I didn't have a fucking crush on him!"  
> Sure. And Amira's week ends-  
> "I finally got those fucking glasses!"  
> -just peachy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;D This one was easier than the last one, thankfully.
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

Sunday morning, I'm just wandering aimlessly through the halls to pass time by for the day, when I hear someone behind me. "Amira! There you are!" I turn around to where the voice came from, and see Minnie jogging up to me in the hall. "I need you to sign off on the orders for the Dark Dance." she smiles brightly at me, only slightly out of breath. "The _what_ dance?" I furrow my brows. "The Dark Dance. On Halloween. It's a ceremony-I can find you a book about it-" she starts up. _It seems like she'll be busy, though._ "No, thanks." I decline her offer. "But what would you need me for?" I ask. "Each class contribute to part of the setup." she informs. "We're doing incense. I've already picked some out, but I need you to sign to authorize the funds." she says. "That's all?" I frown. _She could've mentioned that earlier._ "Everything else is taken care of!" she says happily. "I've got the papers here, so if you can just sign.." she holds up a clipboard with a pen-and there's tons of fucking words on it. And lots more papers under it. "Uh, no offense..but, shouldn't I be reading that first before I sign?" I frown at the fucking thing. "What sort of ceremony is it?" I ask. "I don't want to read a whole book on it, but I do wanna know what I'm signing.

"Right, right." she gives a small smile. "It's for the Dark Dance. That's where we invite the Jogao-the little people-to cross the threshold from the Otherworld and dance with us." she explains. "It's held in the dark so that people can't see the spirits." she adds. "It was originally meant for people who aren't magic, so they wouldn't get upset or try to catch them, but it's still considered rude to stare." she informs. _Oh. Makes sense._ "The dark? Pitch dark?" I ask. "So this is a slow, careful kind of thing?" I make sure. She laughs. "Well, of course. It's not a nightclub, you know. This is an important way of showing respect to the local spirits." she says. "Most magical families hold their own small ceremonies on Halloween, but this is a big one." she says. "It will go on all night. If you last until morning, you're supposed to receive a blessing." she informs. _A blessing, huh? But.._ "All night? No sleep?" I ask incredulous, because _there's fucking school to-_ "Well, yes...but classes are canceled to next day." she explains. _Oh._ "Anyway, I'm ordering pine incense." she says. "It's a healing scent and it's appropriate for the area." she says. We end up talking about the amounts, and the costs. _And she seems to have it all worked out._ So I just sign the paper.

On Monday, after we're all ready, "I don't understand-why are classes canceled on Friday?" Ellen pops a question. "Because of the Dark Dance on Thursday night." Virginia explains. "A dance? But I don't have anything to wear!" Ellen exclaims, _totally fucking misunderstanding something._ "And I haven't asked anyone..." she trails. "Not that kind of dance!" Virginia laughs. "It's a ritual." I tell Ellen. "On Halloween night, witches and wizards dance in the dark so the fairies can visit. It's a ceremonial thing." Virginia explains. "At home we only do it for a few minutes, but because there's so many of us here, they make it into a big event at school. It goes on all night." Virginia continues. "And if you last until morning, you're supposed to receive some sort of 'blessing' or whatever." I add. "That, too." Virginia nods. "So it's not really a romantic-type dance, but I guess you could bring a date if you wanted to." she says. "So, will you be going with Jacob?" I joke. "Wah?" Virginia blinks. "You like Jacob?" Ellen asks. "No! Where did you get that idea?" Virginia denies. "Well, he's always teasing you." I shrug. "So is _Donald._ That just means he's a jerk." Virginia frowns. "Sorry." I say, and Virginia snorts. "Whatever." she rolls her eyes.

We open our schedules, and I'm just about to circle Red Magic class, but I stop myself. I furiously circle Black Magic for the week. _I don't wanna fucking see him after what happened last fucking week._ Monday goes by quickly, and after class on Tuesday, I see Donald and Virginia standing outside of our room. "Don't you have something for me?" Donald grins slyly. "Yeah, yeah. Happy birthday, you goof." Virginia rolls her eyes, handing him a box. _It's his birthday?_ Donald opens the box, "...socks again?" the frowns at its contents. "Yes, but this time they're _yellow._ " Virginia says. "Well, thanks, I guess." Donald shrugs. "Happy birthday." I say to him, before heading into the room.

Wednesday I learn Inspection. After class, I see Ellen heading back. We walk back together. "So, what do you think about the dance tomorrow?" she asks. "The...?" I furrow my brows. _"Oh."_ I say, dumbly. _The Dark Dance._ "Honestly, I've never done anything like it. Never even hear of it up until last week." I say. "From what I'm picking up, it sound like a drum circle of some sort." I shrug. "Should be interesting to see." I say. "..or _not_ see." I correct myself and Ellen giggles. A few moments of silence pass by. "Are you going to ask anyone?" Ellen asks. _Ask anyone-? Oh. She means 'ask a date'._ "But Virginia said it wasn't that kind of dance." I furrow my brows, wondering what the fuck she's trying to get at. "Yes, but that means it's easier..it's not like a real date, so.." she trails. _Ah._

She halts in her tracks, causing me to halt, too. I look at her with my eyebrows raised, and she's staring at something. "What's that?" she starts. I follow her line of sight, and I see something fucking _pink_ taped to our door. I blanch. _It's a motherfucking love letter? It's fucking pink. It has to be a love letter. Nobody in a sane mind would use pink colored paper for anything but a fucking-_ Ellen takes it down and looks at it. "Well, I guess you don't need to ask anyone!" she smiles cheerily, handing the fucking thing to me. I reluctantly take it, and I see my name on it in fucking regal writing, curly cues? Not cursive writing, but still. _What the fuck?_ I gently peel it open, taking out the letter, and begin to read the fucking thing.

_Dear Amira,_

_Please don't throw this away._ I furrow my brows at that. _I know I deserve it. I've been terrible to you._ "Wah?" I react. Ellen blinks at me. _What the fuck._ I flick my eyes down at the end, and see the sender's name. _Damien._ After refusing to talk to me for a fucking month, he's decided to start sending fucking love letters? _Just fucking peachy._ I force myself to keep reading so I can get this bullshit over with fucking _ASAP._

 _You deserve better. I should have told you what was going on._ I raise my brows. _Please meet me tomorrow before the Dark Dance and I will explain everything._ "So, who's it from?" I hear Ellen. "Damien." I groan in annoyance. "Oh." I can tell she forced that out. I sigh deeply. I fold the fucking thing up and put it in my pocket. "It's _pink,_ I know, but it's not a freaking love letter." I inform. "Why the heck he'd choose _pink paper_ to tell me he wants to _talk_ to me, I have absolutely no clue." I say. "Don't tell Virginia okay? I wanna figure out what his problem is, resolve it, and then tell the both of you after it's finished." I force a smile. "All right." Ellen acquiesces.

Thursday I learn Inscription. I whittle away my time, eat dinner, then I decide to take a nap. Hours later, all the students are summoned to the Dark Dance. All the fucking lights are off, everywhere. Leaving only moonlight- _it's a full fucking moon?-_ and the faint blue glow of magic to navigate the dark fucking halls. Somewhere in off in the distance, I hear the sounds of drums-forming an awakened heartbeat. But before I can turn to the hallway towards the gymnasium, where the dance is, someone catches my fucking arm. "Amira?" I hear a male voice. _Damien._ I furrow my brows. "Um, hi?" I greet back. _The letter._ Before I can ask about it, he speaks up. "I'm glad I could find you. I was afraid I'd be too late." his eyes meet anything but me. _Too late?_ "I've been an idiot. Look, what I said to you that day-I didn't mean it." he frowns.

I blink, confused. I remember our last encounter.

_"Hey, Damien." I greet cheerily. He looks at me oddly. "What are you up to? Wanna hang out?" I offer. "Why?" he furrows his brows. I blink, confused. "Um..to be friendly? Because..boredom?" I try. "Not that bored." he scowls at me. And without another word, he brushes past me._

"Oh. That." I frown. "I just took it as you being busy." I say, and he blinks owlishly at me. "You know, being a _senior_ and all? Finishing up the year?" I explain. "However, it's kind of upsetting that you obviously _avoided me_ for a _whole fucking month._ " I furrow my brows at him, crossing my arms. "Sorry, sorry. I was like that to push you away." he still doesn't fucking look at me. _"To avoid me."_ I correct. "For a _whole fucking_ _month._ _"_ I stress. "Sorry. Really." he apologizes. "I'm sure you've heard the stories by now. William will have made sure of that." he says, and I raise my brows at that one. "About me and girls and how I hurt people that get close to me." he says, glancing at me. I frown at him. "Nobody's perfect." I shrug. "And..?" I trail off, awaiting an explanation. He sighs deeply. "...it's true." he admits. I feel a fucking lump in my throat. I mentally berate myself on my first fucking thought- _he could be a fucking killer. Literally._

"Explain." I demand. "I.." he trails, finally looking at me. "I don't expect you to understand. You're-" his voice catches, "You're filled with light." he says. "You're a happy person." he says, and I snort. _Yeah, fucking right._ "I'm not fucking _bubbly_ if that's what you mean." I correct him. He gives a soft, somehow far off, distant laugh. "You're bright, and fresh, and enthusiastic." he counts off. I frown at him. _I certainly fucking try._ But I can't say it like he did. I just... _can't._ "That's what I like about you." he confesses. The next fucking thing he says, "But me-I've got a lot of dark things in my life. Things I-" _fucking pisses me off._ I begin to see red. "Well, guess what, buddy." I interrupt in a hushed rage. "You're not the only fucking one with _bullshit_ back home." I hiss. "Everybody's got fucking skeletons in their fucking closets. Mental, emotional," I strangle out the next part, "Or fucking _physical_ ones. And _everybody,"_ I stress, "Has their fucking _secrets,_ okay?!" I try my best to keep my voice in check. I hunch nose-to-nose with the bastard. "So don't fucking talk like you know _all about it_ _,_ pretty boy, because you're _severely,"_ I raise my voice, "fucking underestimating a dark life." I whisper in a low, threatening tone, willing away the red. _The tunnel._ "Do it again, and I will _personally_ see to it that you _regret_ taking a heavy subject so fucking lightly." I see him shiver. _And I swear I hear a pant._ But I'm too fucking pissed to fucking even register its meaning. I shove him aside and make my way down the hall. _  
_

I halt before the gymnasium doors before going in. I inhale deeply, hold it for a moment, then exhale. I continue until I calm down a little. I'm purposefully gentle in opening the door, and when I do, I smell the pine incense. I smile slightly, closing the door gently behind me, taking slow baby steps inside a ways. It's dark, and I can't see shit, and my other senses are in full fucking overdrive. _Pine sap. Evergreen. Thick, strong, and sweet._ I feel my tenseness melt away. The fragile crunch of dead leaves underfoot. Swirling breezes, drifting hot and cold.. _I quietly inhale the scents._ Autumn. Mixed with smoke. I slowly move, concentrating on this moment of cathartic intoxication. I think I close my eyes somewhere along the line, and all sounds mellow out into nothing. I _feel_ murmurs, soft laughter-all from unseen lips blending together. And under it all, there was a soft vibration of music. _**A strong female presence.**_ Something that was there, and yet not there-wraps it's arms around me. _Over my shoulders. Humming. In my ear._ _ **Or is that your heartbeat?**_ I felt something convey words to me, in-I don't know. Emotion?

It was upbeat. Joking-not mocking. It was there, but it wasn't. I feel another place invade my senses. Somewhere that was not Iris Academy-but I was still at school. Somewhere busy-but mostly quiet-a place that smells of old, clean window drapes, vintage leather to older books, and dark oak wood. And cigar smoke, and fine wine. _Unlike the shit my step-mother drinks._ I _feel_ something smile in amusement. In my head, a flash appears. Of a slightly older man, well-dressed in a very dark brown tuxedo. In a high class- _is that a mafia den?!_ I smile in awe, because even though what I saw was very brief, it was...

 _I can't even put it into words._ Suddenly, I feel the older man turn his head to me, and within a second, I'm _awake._ In my fucking dorm room. I'm looking out the window, and it's before noon, and I feel a light, sleepy buzz in my brain. And all I could think is that fact that it's _fucking Friday,_ and _classes are canceled._ I lay back, pulling the covers over my head, almost immediately falling asleep.

I get woken up by Ellen, who's looking at me worriedly. "Lunch." she says. And my stomach decides to growl right at that moment. She giggles. I get up. After we eat, we're all back in our room relaxing. _Well, attempting to._ But Ellen sits at her desk and pulls a large book off the shelf, then lays it down in front of her-closed-and she sighs. "What's up?" Virginia tries. "Nothing. Just...the dance." Ellen says. "Hmmmm. Did Ellen have a _date?"_ Virginia tries to be humorous. I blanch-her reaction is _immediate. Her eyes fucking tear up._ "Whoa!" Virginia exclaims as Ellen hiccups. "I'm sorry!" she apologizes deeply. I try to speak, but nothing will come out. "Uh...are you okay? What happened?" Virginia tries. Ellen scrubs at her face and sniffs, trying to push the wetness back into her eyes and _failing._ "Nothing." Ellen says pitifully. "Um...that doesn't look like nothing." Virginia furrows her brows. " _Nothing_ happened. Nothing ever _will_ happen." Ellen starts up again. "He said...because of you..." she chokes. "Wait, what? Me?" Virginia raises her brow. "Because I'm your roommate so it's like I'm his sister too!" Ellen speaks quickly. "Sis..." Virginia blinks owlishly, "you..." and slowly, "you liked _Donald?_ " her expression turned into one of pure shock. I stop myself from palming my forehead.

I elbow Virginia. "No, you idiot. _William!"_ I whisper. _"Oh."_ Virginia says, wide eyed at the new information. _"...I thought he swore off girls after Angela..."_ Virginia's voice was so low, I had to strain my fucking ears to hear. _That bitch of a senior?_ And Ellen starts up again. "He-" she sniffs. "He went out with _her?"_ her voice was strained and high pitched, and she was crying. "She's _awful."_ I stress. "That's why they broke up." Virginia informs. "Look...Ellen...I'm not good at sensitive stuff, but I know my brother wouldn't want to hurt you.." she starts. "Didn't say he did." Ellen gets defensive. "Well, just, I mean...I want to make you feel better?" Virginia tries. _Just fucking peachy._ "I'm fine." Ellen puffs out her cheeks. _I gotta lighten the mood._ Virginia sighs.

"So what about you, Virginia?" I smile slyly. "You still haven't told us who _you_ like..." I say, and she furrows her brows at me. "Which boy is it that's better than Jacob?" I joke. "I don't like any boys." she knits her brows. I blink. _F_ _lexible?_ "Any girls, then?" I ask, and her brow twitches. "No. I don't like anybody that way." she frowns at me. "Why not?" Ellen asks. "Maybe I have high standards?" Virginia tries to avoid the conversation. "There must be _somebody_ that sparkles for you!" I exclaim dramatically. "Maybe you just don't realize it, yet!" I grin at her. She raises her brow at me. "That makes no sense." she says. I snort, rolling my eyes. "I bet the person you really like is..." I trail for extra suspense.

 _"Damien."_ I say. "What? _Why?_ I _hate_ him!" Virginia says with a passion. "Exactly! That means you must be full of pent-up sexual tension!" I exclaim. "Um..." Ellen squeaks. "That's so not how it works." Virginia frowns deeply at me. "Well, no, not for _real._ But just work with me here, okay?" I say, an evil grin splitting my face. "Imagine that you could, like, tie him up and punish him. He's pretty, right? And he's been bad." I suggest. Virginia begins cackling, and Ellen's silent-her face is beet red. _"You're wicked!"_ Virginia laughs harder. "You...you _like_ that?" Ellen's voice can barely be heard over Virginia. "I don't know, but for him, I could try..." Virginia says. Ellen's face gets redder. "You two are weird." she says. I chuckle. _It seems to have taken her mind off of William._

On Saturday, I get up extremely early again and quickly deliver the mail. I decide to go to the mall. I head for the students' section, and pick up the glasses that I wanted, then proceed to purchase it. Afterwards, I happily head back to join the others in the return to Iris Academy. _I can't wait to wear them!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! 3 consecutive chappies! :D


	12. Sixth Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So you're giving the asshole more screen time?"  
> C'mon, he deserves it. Now, hush. I've got a chapter to summarize.  
> "Yeah, yeah."  
> Anyway, Amira receives a summons from Professor Grabiner-  
> "The asshole."  
> -to come for a meeting for this month's fundraiser. She ends up choosing raffle tickets. With a discount on large orders.  
> "Everybody fucking loves discounts."  
> Oh, and she meets a certain green pig snout creature, again.  
> "Aren't you missing something?"  
> I thought you didn't like Damien?  
> "I fucking hate him."  
> And, it seems the Professor can hear things that normal people cannot-mundane or not.  
> "Just fucking peachy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three Grabby POVs-one at the verrryyyyy beginning and two at the end-because he needs lots more lurb for all the (domestic, too) hiccups I plan to put him through. :D Oh, and..*removes the 'occasional Grabby POV' tag because it doesn't count anymore*
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

After Miss Fatima's violent stunt at the beginning of the week, Petunia had conducted an investigation on the girl via a series of spells. She eventually came to the conclusion that it was a  _possession,_ however, I cannot shake the feeling she's left out rather  _important_ details. With the newfound information, I had to summon the involved students that were inside of the gymnasium, after erasing the memories of the unfortunate witnesses-and explain to them what had happened.  _Subtly._  "It would seem Miss Fatima is  _susceptible_ to outside attack-no matter how heavily warded the Academy is." I told them. "Worry not, because such a thing will never happen to the likes of you, nor will it ever happen again." I assured. I had warned them against causing a fuss, or I will erase their memory of the incident-which was a sufficient threat to stop their  _whispers_ of prejudice. Miss Danson and Miss Middleton had shared worried looks throughout-out of concern for their roommate.

In the evening, I was toiling away at my desk for a relic's last whereabouts, when I felt Petunia's Farspeak.

"Did you get it?" her voice was low.  _Ah. So the girl is awake._ "No. I have found absolutely nothing of what you speak of on my shelves." I tell her. "Then try elsewhere." she hisses, and I frown. "Where else would I look, Petunia?" I throw back, exhausted.  _I feel a migraine coming on._ "In my knowledge-I'll have you know, the  _relic_ you speak of doesn't exist." I inform. "Of course." she says. "It must be  _made._ " she says, and I furrow my brows, about to say something. "As the instructors here, we have a duty to protect each student of Iris Academy, we will do our  _utmost_ to-" she goes on her tangent, "Yes, Headmistress." I sigh in exasperation. "Good." she says, her magic retreating. "I expect it to be done by Sunday."

The week goes on as usual, but not only do I have the rather strenuous task of finding information on a certain relic for a certain  _volatile_ girl, I also must prepare the exam for next week. Do not get me wrong; while I enjoy good literature, including historical takes, as well as theories on multitudes of topics that most would not understand-this particular piece evades me. And it exasperates me to no end. 

* * *

On Sunday, I spend my time loitering around the library. Monday morning, I find a folded note with my fucking name on it slipped under the fucking door. I frown at it, staring at the fucker for a moment, before bending over to fucking pick it up, opening it. I flick my eyes down the paper,  _Professor Grabiner._ Requesting that I meet him after fucking class.  _Just fucking peachy._ He's 'requesting'. So it means I'm not in trouble.  _Yet._ I knit my brows, glaring at it, willing the fucking thing to disappear.  _But if I don't fucking show up, that will change. He will be fucking pissed._ I snort at the scene that enters my mind; he's yelling at me, face hilariously red in anger, threatening the ever-despised  _detention_ unto me.  _Maybe I should play hooky._ I slip the note in my pocket, and pencil in Dark Magic classes for the week.

I learn Trigger. After class, Professor Potsdam stops me. "Did you know there's going to be a school fundraising event this month, dearie?" her eyes twinkle  _knowingly_ at me. I blanch. "I trust Professor Grabiner has notified you of this?" she puts on a smile. "Er..he did send a summons, ma'am." I avert my gaze. "But he didn't mention why.." I trail, guiltily. She giggles. "Very well; now you know! Best be on your way now, dearie." she walks off.  _Just fucking peachy._ I seek out Professor Grabiner, because Professor Potsdam is  _eerily_ fucking  _terrifying._

I open the door to the conference room, peeking in. "Ah, Miss Fatima." Professor Grabiner greets. I reluctantly enter the room. "As treasurer, you are responsible for managing the freshmen class tribute." he informs. "Tribute, sir?" I furrow my brows.  _That was nowhere in the-_ "The payments American wizards make to the tribal councils for the use of their land." he explains.  _"Oh."_ is all I can say, looking anywhere but at him. "Petunia in her wisdom does not consider it necessary for first-year students to cover magical history." he says. I stiffen at the two last fucking words. "That's probably because she enjoys seeing people look confused." I say.  _I swear._ "Indeed. You may find that much of what that woman does is an act designed for similar purposes." he says. I frown.

"Now, for the Thanksgiving tribute. The funds come from two sources: ticket sales from the fall play, and candle sales at the shopping center, where the school rents a kiosk." he explains. I blink.  _Ticket sales, play.._ I register. "The purpose is to obtain money from the outsiders-the nonmagical-given willingly." he says. "Candles?" I think out loud, brows furrowed. "Colored and scented to provide 'festive cheer'." he tones dryly. "Each class produces their own design. How well it sells will depend on your skills." he explains. I nod. "Do try not to embarrass yourself." he says. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

"It's 'traditional' to sell candles, right?" I ask. "Do you require  _all_  information to be given in duplicate?" he frowns at me, brows knitted, voice sarcastic, and he's looking at me like I'm some dumb ass. "No, sir." I fake a smile. "I merely  _require_ the information on if the selling of candles is an absolute must-or is it possible to do something else instead?" I fire. "It is not impossible. However, if it requires extra effort, that will fall squarely on your shoulders." he says. "I would expect no less." I grin. "As will the blame for any failure resulting from this deviation." he sneers at me.  _But I won't let that get me down._ "We could do a raffle. A big holiday gift basket dressed up in ribbons would look fancy on the table  _and_ get people's attention." I start up.  _And discounts. Everybody fucking loves discounts._ "And we could encourage them to buy multiple tickets by giving discounts on larger orders." I say, pausing only a moment to think up some more, but he fucking ends it. "Very well, Miss Fatima. We will attempt your strategy." he says.  _Strategy?_ I blanch.  _Wait a minute, I didn't get the chance to-_ "You will likely be expected to work a shift at the sales booth on the twenty-third." he informs.  _Twenty-third?_ I register.  _Fuck!_ "Unless you manage to get yourself into detention." he gives me the condescension again. I bristle, trying to form a fucking comeback, fucking  _anything,_ as he struts his high horse out.

 _And for the second fucking time in the fucking school year, I had to refrain from hunting him down-instead taking my pent up frustration from three fucking weeks ago out by holding my breath as to not fucking scream, stomping my foot several times until I had to breathe._ And just so you know, the next two words are fucking sarcasm:  _Therapeutic. Really._ Yeah.  _Just fucking peachy._

On Thursday, I learn Detect Charm. As I'm exiting the cafeteria, into the hallway, I feel a presence that can't be put into fucking words.  _Repulsive? Sickening? Gut-churning? Disgus-_ "Hello, Amira." I hear. And I fucking blanch.  _It's the fucking pretty boy._ I stiffen.  _Didn't I scare the fucker off?_ "Did you enjoy your dinner?" he asks.  _Nauseating._ I finish my earlier line of thought, carefully turning towards him and  _he was vibrant and sparkly and all fucking twinkly fucking stars oh my fucking God._ "Urhk-" I force my dinner back down. "It was alright, I guess..?" I turn my head away from him.  _Up until you came, asshole._ I comment, inwardly. "Really?" he hums, and that peachy sparkle vanishes-turning into something purely fucking analytical.  _Maybe now I can stomach looking at him._ So I do. Hesitantly. "...if you like your chili on the bland side?" I try, sheepishly. "Thought so." he chuckles. "There are many secrets here you probably haven't found out yet-such as the best place to get a good meal." He says, and I furrow my brows.  _I'm broke._ "Would you like to come to dinner with me-" he starts, and I interrupt him."I literally just ate, Damien." I point to the cafeteria. "-tomorrow. Off-campus." he finishes. "At the mall food court?" I ask. "Near the mall. Not quite part of it." he chuckles. I roll my eyes. "It's called the Glen, and it's magic-only." he informs.

"The professors go there when they're too tired to travel, and visiting parents who want to take their student-children somewhere nice." he explains. "I thought-" I begin, then suddenly realize he means  _magical parents._ "Oh.." I trail, lamely. "So," he starts up. "would you like to go?" he asks. "I can't afford some fancy restaurant. Let alone some  _magical_ one. I'm flat out fucking broke." I wrinkle my nose, hoping that'll ward him off. "That's all right, it's my treat." he winks.  _Nope._ I roll my eyes.  _Just fucking peachy._ And I have to make sure. "Is this a date?" I furrow my brows at him. "Does  _everything_ that happens between a guy and a girl have to be about dating?" he pitches. "In what way are you asking?" I frown at him. He just blinks at me curiously. "Are you asking my personal opinion on the matter?" I ask. "Yes, I am." he affirms. "Then,  _no._ " I say, with passion. "I enjoy your company, that's all. I want to show you the Glen." he gets chipper. "I think you'll really like it." he winks. I glare at him, and he just fucking stands there all relaxed.

I sigh in exasperation after awhile, because he's  _not gonna fucking budge._ "No can do." I tell him, gaze averted. "Tons of shit to do this week." I say. "Ah." he fidgets finally in my peripheral.  _Finally._ "Well...how about next week, then?" he asks. I furrow my brows.  _Plans were made this week about the fundraiser, so it won't be until next week that the actual fucking thing happens. And since I suggested a fucking raffle, they'll have my hide._ "Listen, Damien. I'm gonna have to take a turn manning the booth because  _I'm Class Treasurer,_ " I stress. "so I can't promise anything, alright?" I say, bluntly. He furrows his brows, nodding in understanding.  _I'm gonna regret this._ "Tell you what." I say, finally looking at him, and he looks at me.  _Think this through, Amira._ "If I'm late, come to stop by the booth, alright?" I say.  _Fucking think it through!_ "Say hi." I tell him.  _Think it through._ "And if you feel the slightest inkling of wanting to scare off my customers," I start, "whatever fucking game  _this_ is," waving my hands for extra effect,  _"_ _will fucking end."_ I hiss threateningly at him. He blinks up at me. "Got it?" I ask him. He nods. "Good." I head off.

Very early on Saturday morning, I'm about to take my keys from my pocket,  _but I hear a fucking squeak from inside the fucking conference room._ I feel my heart fucking leap in my fucking throat, as I fucking remember the fucking  _statue_ that fucking  _vanished_ out of fucking  _thin air_ and I got inside-record time-and there it was.  _In all it's fucking glory. Like a fucking statue._ Staring at me.  _With it's tiny, black, beady, fucking bulging eyes._ But this time, it's pig snout was  _moving._ It was.. _fucking sniffing me out._ I shiver in disgust. I see it move. I stiffen. It turns back into a fucking statue.  _Staring at me._ So, I do the only fucking thing I know how to do.  _Greet it._

"Um...hi?" I try.  _With no fucking answer._ "Hello?" I say louder. It squeaks. I jump. It blinks. I blink.  _Um._ We both stare at each other and after awhile, it goes back to digging into the box.  _With its snout._ Soon, I hear a clink, a tiny snort, and it pulls out a gold toy badge and I furrow my brows as it holds the badge up and examines it at every angle, snuffing at, before it begins to gracefully slink downwards to the floor, after it puts it in its mouth. I watch, feeling numb as  _a fucking tiny portal opens and it slinks into the fucking portal._ And fucking vanishes. I blanch after registering,  _that's what the fuck it did before,_ and  _it literally just fucking traveled through a fucking portal of some fucking sort. How is that fucking even possible?!_

"Miss Fatima?" I hear behind me, and within a dizzying second, I'm mashed against where the green beady-eyed pig snout weasel thing was.  _On the other side of the fucking room._ Hyperventilating.  _It's Professor Grabiner. Fuck._

* * *

It is the end of the third week of Miss Fatima's blatant avoidance of my person; and as fate may have it, Petunia has recently seen it fit to enlighten me that the runes of the spell require the magics of the caster and the wearer to be gathered in the same room, at the same time, for the relic to take back it's full form. And seeing as it is a relic, it will take weeks to create. I sigh in exasperation.  _I wish she had told me that earlier._ I press my hand against my temple, willing the headache away, as I wind down the hallways to were Miss Fatima should currently now be located.  _Very early in the morning._ Which is quite odd for a wildseed. Typical for the treasurer, but odd for the choice of  _hour._

Allow me to explain as to  _why_ she is avoiding me-while most of you may think I may have a thick skull to these things, I am quite sensitive. Miss Fatima had managed to injure herself during the second exam-giving both her new wand and unfortunately, her head, a loud resounding  _crack._ Which had sounded rather painful. As for the wand...I, once again, was tasked with finding the bits and pieces scattered about the dungeon. This time, in the abyss-through a series of magic and spells. I do hope she does not purchase another wand the moment she receives the funds.  _Perhaps I should advise her against that._

Later that same day, I had arrived to check the girl for any internal injuries-and needless to say, she had looked as if she had seen a sentient. I remember her writing it off as a 'hallucination' so I'd tossed the thought from my mind. When she had seemed calmer, I had proceeded to take my wand, and cast a simple sedation spell, numbing the area of the affliction before probing it. The girl had turned into-for a lack of better words, a statue. "Miss Fatima?" I had called, her aquamarine- _and just now, I recall them being slightly discolored-_ hues wide.  _Interesting. Heterochromia Iridum? But not.._ I take a turn, furrowing my brows.  _Both pupils were of the same color variation-only slightly discolored. One was lighter than the other._ The condition was quite rare.

She had shrunk back, quaking, hands covering her face. "Are you doing alright?" I had asked her, worried about her sudden change in mood.  _It could very well have been her menstruation cycle-but such strong, sudden changes in mood like such made it highly unlikely._ Even for a being of pure magic, readying emself to breed. I had waited for her to calm herself down. "Sorry." she apologized. "Is something wrong?" I asked her. "Magic." I heard from her small voice, her face still covered. What she had said next, had made me go numb.

 _"Your magic...is very, very familiar."_ My mind had want blank.  _"No, it's not just familiar."_  She had literally admitted she could  _recognize_ magics. Their auras. Their users.  _"I know it."_ Something only the Oracle can do.

_I halt a ways before the conference room, where Amira is peeking in at something. It vaguely registers._

I understand that as a student, she had needed my presence during that time of insecurity. I also admit, that it was  _extremely_ stupid of me to leave her there. The reason why she has avoided me for three weeks, is because she was angry at me for doing so.  _Perfectly understandable._ "Hello?" Miss Fatima says, eyes glued to something inside the room. I hear a young male voice reply in echo, greeting her,  _"Hola."_ but the girl jumped backwards. I blink at the scene in front of me. Within moments, I come to the epiphany, that it must be my sixth sense kicking in. I frown deeply.

Moments later, after nothing more happens, and the encounter is obviously over, I head up to her. "Miss Fatima?" I call out.  _And she immediately casts 'Teleport Self' to the other side of the conference room, far away from me._ She had looked as she did three weeks ago, with her 'hallucination'. "I assure you, it was not a hallucination if you've seen the same thing twice." I informed as she'd opened her mouth to likely write it off again. 

* * *

 _It's a hallucination. It's a hallucination. A fucking hallucination._ I open my mouth to fucking speak, but Professor Grabiner fucking beats me to it. "I assure you, it was not a hallucination if you've seen the same thing twice." he tells me. I close my fucking mouth. I blink stupidly, finally calming the fuck down.  _It's not a...?_ I furrow my brows in confusion. He sighs. "I had hoped the locals would avoid being seen, but it would seem there is a new one to the bunch." he frowns, "One whom does not know the rules." then sighs. "Huh..?" is all I can let out. "I have a penchant to, let us say,  _hear_ what others cannot." he explains. I blink at him curiously. "The being you had spoken to, had greeted you back." he said, tone dry. "No, it squeaked." I say, finally. His brows hilariously raise up. "Really now? Intriguing. What sort of character was it?" he asks, sarcastically. I frown at him.

"Why are you even here?" I throw back at him, upset. "I trust Petunia has told you of a relic?" he frowns deeply at my tone. I shrink back. "Yes..?" I answer, sheepish. "She has recently seen fit to inform me that for it to be made, the magics of the caster and the wearer must be in the same room." he informs. "And seeing as this is a  _relic_ we speak of, it will take  _weeks_  to create." he says. "Meaning..?" I prod. "Meaning the three weeks you spent avoiding me could have better been spent to  _create it._ " he stresses. And it's my fucking turn to frown.  _Because he's avoiding it. What happened three fucking weeks ago._ "Wait, now. You said that she recently told you, sir." I pipe up. He opens his mouth. "And with all due respect, both parties didn't know  _anything._ Correct?" I assert, hurriedly getting the fucking mail around. "Correct. And you  _do_ know that this is Petunia's fault, correct?" he redirects, purposefully. I frown at him, pausing my work.

Professor Potsdam enjoys people running around confused. I sigh, deeply, remembering what he had said earlier in the week.  _Similar purposes, huh?_ I see a letter addressed to Ellen as I finish putting the mail in the bag. "You knew well enough of her ways, obviously. So why didn't you see fit to ask in the first place?" I say, walking by him towards the door. "Doesn't hurt to ask what one does not know." I say, heading out. 

* * *

I am left to my thoughts as Miss Fatima closes the door behind her with purpose.

 _"The Oracle.."_ I hear myself say under my breath.  _Perhaps, it is time to question Petunia about several matters._

And forewarn her, there could very well be a  **candidate** in our midst.

 _But knowing her,_ I frown at her general secrecy when it comes to Miss Fatima, unlike any other student,  _she could have already known._

I sigh in exasperation, feeling a migraine coming on.  _Perhaps it is time to write Father as well. I have a hunch about where Miss Fatima's magics imprint comes from-but one cannot be sure until the suspected source affirms._ I press my fingers firmly against my temples.  _I am not looking forward to the next week._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know what the green creature is? :)
> 
> Also, Damien's an incubus. He uses his pheromones on Amira and to her, they are a sparkly twinkly repulsive overload.
> 
> P.S. Heeeeee. It's verryyyyyy beginning! Amira's story is just starting! :D Let the slowwwww begin. >:D I will explain as scenes call for it. <3 Which will take a looong ass time. Can't wait! :D


	13. Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen receives a letter from home.  
> "Her mother is a dick."  
> Amira also gets asked about dating again.  
> "I'm not good at that shit!"  
> Then she learns Spirit sight, Empathy, then when Thursday rolls around..  
> "Donald decides to knowingly land us in fucking detention."  
> She meets the green creature again, and manages to teleport Damien's person to her.  
> "I felt weak after that..I wonder why..?"  
> The week soon ends with Detention, and the Professor taking care of a certain gold color loving thief.  
> "I hope they don't hurt it..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm chugging here. :( I'm trying my hardest. Loxxi wants comments. Plz. Comments are love. Comments are Loxxi's writing fuel. :( I know it's bad to beg for comments, but me needs themmhmmm to keep going. :( Please? With sprinkles on top?
> 
> But I can't promise anything big since I've been chugging for so long.
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

I take my time delivering the fucking mail. And when I return, thankfully, Professor Grabiner is not there. I take the last of them as usual-Virginia Ellen, and my allowances, plus Ellen's letter. I head back to the room, handing Ellen her letter and allowance when I return. "Oh...it's from my family." I hear Ellen say as I'm giving Virginia her allowance. Ellen carefully works her finger under the sealed envelope flap, opening it with a minimum of tearing, the unfolds the letter and begins to read.  _"...what?"_ Ellen's small voice can be heard. She drops back onto her bed with a dull thud and stares at the paper in her hands. "What is it?" Virginia raises her brow. "It's-It's nothing." Ellen starts up. I open my mouth, but Ellen beats me to it. "Just a change of plans." she says. "Apparently I'm not going home for Thanksgiving." she furrows her brows, eyes never leaving the letter.

"Knowing Dad, I don't get to go home, either." I tell her, with a shrug, and then they both look at me weird. "What?" I knit my brows at them. "You won't be going back, either, Amira? Why?" Virginia asks me. "Dad works all the time. Step is always out doing God knows what. Don't wanna see her." I avert my gaze. "Step..?" I hear Ellen. "My step-mother." I roll my eyes. "She's mean." I stop myself there. I give Virginia a half-hearted glare as she opens her mouth to ask. "Whatever." she rolls her eyes, turning back to Ellen. "What about you?" she asks Ellen. "Because...it's a long way, for such a short break...so it's better for me to stay here." Ellen explains.  _Fucking cheapskates can't take their daughter somewhere nice._ I frown. "Is that what  _you_ want?" Virginia pitches. "That doesn't matter." Ellen frowns. "Really, it doesn't. I-It's not my decision. I can't go home on my own." she says. "They don't want me there." she looks down. "Well,  _we_ want you here! Don't we, Amira?" Virginia starts up. "Yeah." I smile.

"Come on! We should all do something together today." Virginia grins. "Okay." I agree. "You don't have to do that. I'm fine, really." Ellen smiles."You're fine about not going home? What, do you hate your parents or something?" Virginia raises a brow at Ellen. "Virginia!" I elbow her, frowning. "I don't hate them. They just-don't want me." Ellen sighs.  _Don't want..?_ I stare at Ellen, disbelieving. "Mama's probably glad to be rid of me." she frowns. I look down, getting lost in my head.  _Mama. I've...never known what a Mama in a normal family is like._ "What about your dad?" I hear Virginia ask.  _Dad works and-_ "He's not around." Ellen says.  _Oh._ "I live-I lived," Ellen corrects herself.  _Just grin and bear with it, Amira._ "with my Mama and Justin, my stepfather." Ellen explains.  _They aren't talking about you._ I blink as Ellen's words register. "Your father left you?" I frown.

"That-not exactly." Ellen starts. "Mama was..." she trails. "She left him, with us. Because.." she averts her gaze. "Jenny's my  _half-_ sister. Justin's her dad." she explains.  _Wow. Just. Wow. What a bitch._ "My father...was angry?" she tries, looking at us again.  _Understandable. She fucked some dude and got pregnant while she was fucking married._ "I don't remember a lot of what happened. Then we moved and eventually he stopped writing." she says.  _Wow._ "Mama says I look like him." she averts her gaze again.  _Just. Wow._ "I-" I feel my voice catch in my throat.  _It's none of my fucking business, but..._ "I'm sure they want to have you home. It's just-it's like, eight hundred miles, right?" I try. She nods. "You're going home for Christmas, right?" I frown. "As far as I know." she replies. And a thought struck me.  _Dad might not be home for Christmas._ "Is it...okay for people to stay here over the holidays?" I ask more of Virginia than Ellen. "Yeah, there's always someone staying. Some people don't want to have to go back to being non-magical." Virginia informs. "Hey! If you want, you could come to our house for the break." Virginia starts up again. "Really?" Ellen makes sure. " Sure! We're used to having people stay over." Virginia grins. I raise a brow at her.

"I mean, I have to ask, but I'm sure it'll be all right." she says. "Um-unless you don't want to because of, you know. My brother." she says, and Ellen goes pink. "Oh...I'd rather be there than here all alone." Ellen smiles, shyly. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Okay! I'll write to Mom and Dad." Virginia whoops. "Now, let's go  _do_ something! Let's go outside, I want some fresh air." she urges. "Okay." Ellen smiles. We go out for a walk, and I and Virginia have a debate over which is better-track or soccer.

"Track." I say. "Soccer." Virginia huffs. Ellen trails behind us, giggling at our antics.  _Honestly, I'm just getting into this to cheer Ellen up, but I have no fucking idea about Virginia._ "Fine! I challenge you, then! To a race!" Virginia grins wickedly. I snort. "You sure?" I smirk at her, daring her. It turns into a run, then after a series of shouts, a chase. Virginia still can't keep up with me. Overall, we have a good time, but we tire ourselves out. Sunday passes by quickly, and Monday there's a shit ton of flyers posted up in the halls informing us that there will be a special assembly for all freshmen this Thursday; and no class activities will be scheduled for that day.  _Since Professor Grabiner said that the relic will take weeks to create..._  My pencil hovers over Red Magic class. I frown.  _Fuck it. He can wait one more fucking week._ I pencil in White Magic instead for today, tomorrow, and Wednesday. I pencil in Friday for a rest day.

_I tie my hair up in a high ponytail for today, because it's nice out._

I didn't do really good in class today, because I can't help but be a little upset with Dad.  _If he were coming home, if he were visiting, he would have sent a fucking letter._ "There you are!" I hear, behind me, as I'm headed back to my dorm. I turn around to see Minnie. "I've been looking for you." she says, walking up to me. "Is everything on course for the fundraiser? You've got it set?" she asks. I blink. "As far as I know, yeah." I say. "Great." she smiles. "Here's the papers on the booth location and the schedules." she hands me some papers. "Do you mind which time you work?" she asks. "Uh..not really?" I say, taking them. "Only I'm supposed to be somewhere else after the last shift and I know it might run over, so..." she trails, averting her gaze. "...yeah." she furrows her brows. When she says nothing, I take the time to look over the papers.

After a moment, she looks back to me. "...can I ask you something?" she asks. "Depends." I tell her, furrowing my brows. "Well..." she trails. "When two people are going out, is it normal for them to spend all their time together?" she asks.  _What?_ "Not with anyone else?" she adds.  _Again with the fucking dating advice._ "Um..I think? As long as they want to?" I try.  _Just fucking peachy._ "I mean, if two people are going out with each other, it seems like that they would like spending time with each other. Especially if they've just started going out, because, communication is a big deal. At least, in my personal opinion." I tell her. "Right." she agrees. "But then again, I don't really know these things. I've...never dated before." I admit, sheepishly. She blinks at me. "Really?" she sounds dumbfounded. "Yeah." I avert my gaze. "Oh." she says. "Well, thanks for the help. I'll talk to you later." she says. I nod.

Tuesday, I learn Spirit Sight. And Wednesday, I learn Empathy. On Thursday morning, everyone's gathered together at the gym. "Good morning, my bright young things!" Professor Potsdam sings from her place on the stage. "Today is a special occasion for all of you. You're going to get to practice what you've learned and try out some spells on each other, without the pressure of a test or grades." she informs. "This is an important lesson, because in future exams you may come up against other spellcasters. You need to know how to use magic in combat, and how to avoid magic being used on you." she explains.  _Makes sense._ "Will everyone please team up in twos?" she smiles. Then everyone begins their chatter-jostling and shuffling around, pairing off in twos as told. Ellen and Virginia pair off, and I end up with Donald.  _Just fucking peachy._ "Please pay attention before we begin." Professor Potsdam begins once everyone is in pairs.

"I want you to take turns casting spells at each other and blocking them. This is not a battle, and you're not trying to defeat each other." she informs. "Think of it like a game of catch." she smiles. "One of you is the 'pitcher' and one of you is the 'catcher'." she explains. "You can only pitch when it's your turn, so defenders must only defend and not attack." she explains.  _Only defend?_ I frown thoughtfully.  _Defend-defend, or can we-_ "Also, please don't interfere with any other pairs." she frowns slightly. "That includes casting spells that tend to be messy. No fireballs or ice storms, please! Target only your partner." she instructs. "I will be on hand to deal with any injuries and accidents. If you hurt yourself, please call for help. I'll be right there." she smiles. "Have fun!" she sings.  _Fun?_ I turn to Donald, furrowing my brows.  _He better not do anything weird._ But knowing him, he fucking will. "Ladies first!" he grins.

 _I could teleport in front of him. Or I can teleport him in front of me. Or I can make him blind._ I look up.  _Or teleport him up._ I snicker.  _Okay, maybe not that high up, maybe...no. Professor Potsdam might have my hide._ "Well?" I hear him. I shrug. "I'm honestly not sure. I've never done this before. I know some stuff, but.." I trail. "You can do a Push spell, right?" he asks me. "Red Magic Class?" I ask, averting my gaze. "Yeah." he affirms. I blanch.  _Maybe I should've taken Red Magic class for the week._ "Um...no..?" I trail, sheepishly. " _You_ should be taking more classes!" he grins as if he's caught me red handed, pointing at me.  _Definitely teleport him up. I give zero fucks. He deserves this._ "Up." I huff, indignant, crossing my arms, and he widens his eyes as his form blinks out of existence, only to pop back about 3 feet above me and I step back-letting him bite the gymnasium's floor. "Ow." I smile at my handiwork as he groans in pain. "How's that for learning?" I say, smug. He eventually gets up, rubbing his chin. "Need that checked?" I ask, worried. "Nah." he gives me a mischievous grin. "My turn now. You ready?" he takes out his wand. "I guess?" I say, staring curiously at him. He starts a chant, and I blanch as I remember,  _defend._ So, "Silentium." I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

**_This magic to be cast unto me, silence it._ **

He blinks, wide eyed. His mouth moves, but nothing comes out. Then he starts laughing. _Silently._ And now he's kneeling over, he's laughing so hard.  _Still silently._ "Um." I hear myself say stupidly. He waves me off. I hear him start coughing, and a moment later he calms down. "What do you call  _that_?" he raises his brows at me, amused. "A spell..?" I trail. "No." he snorts. "Thinking outside the box?" I try. He laughs. "You stole my idea, you know." he says. I roll my eyes. "Whatever." I tell him. We work together for awhile, trading spells back and forth. Eventually, he found out the trick of my teleportation spells. He needed to be in my line of sight. Then Donald holds up his hands and leans in close to whisper something. "I've got a great idea. When I say go, you drop to the floor and cover your eyes. I'm going to cast something over your head." he tells me. "Okay..?" I furrow my brows.

We each go back to our spots, and he takes out his wand, and begins chanting. "Go!" I hear him, and I do as told, and hear a loud ass whooshing sound above me accompanied by a burst of heat overhead, and are those.. _fucking screams?_  "Donald!" I hear Professor Potsdam, and I open my eyes. "What are you doing?" she approaches.  _What the fuck just happened?_ "Oooo, you're in  _trouble..._ " Virginia starts up. I furrow my brows, confused. I look at Donald. "While your flaming dragon was very impressive..." Professor Potsdam begins, and I snap my head to her.  _A flaming dragon? A fucking flaming fucking dragon?_ "...I did  _specifically_ tell you to avoid large spells like that." she frowns at him, disappointed. _I missed a fucking fire dragon?_ I pout. "If poor Amira hadn't managed to get out of the way, you would have hurt her badly!" she scolds. "Like he cares." Virginia frowns.  _Wait._ "This is very disappointing. You've always been so careful in your creativity." Professor Potsdam sighs.  _Wait a moment. She's talking like-_ "Why would you take such a risk?" she asks. "Professor Potsdam? I wasn't actually in danger." I correct.

"He told me to get down. He made sure I was out of the way before he cast it." I inform. "You knew what he was going to do?" she looks at me. "Yeah." I affirm.  _I knew he was gonna do something stupid, and admitting to that should get him out of fucking trouble, right?_ "Well, I suppose that changes things slightly..." she smiles, with a sigh of relief. "Detention for the both of you, then!" she says. "What?" I blink. "It's only fair for both conspirators to suffer equally. And you did know that you shouldn't cast such large spells. But no demerits, since there was no real danger." she explains.  _Just fucking peachy._ "Perhaps the two of you can use the time to come up with some more interesting way of showcasing your skills for the class?" she smiles. "Yes, ma'am." I avert my eyes, unable to argue.  _Just fucking peachy._ "No problem." Donald says. "Try to be good, now." Professor Potsdam says, her eyes shifting elsewhere, lingering for a bit.

After a few moments, she frowns. "..Jacob, put Mr. Arias down!" she hurries off to deal with them. And luckily, there are no major accidents during the fucking session. Friday, I sleep in a bit. Ellen's in and systematically taking clothes out of her dresser, and putting them back in. I can't help but stare.  _What the fuck is she doing?_ She looks like she's concentrating quite a bit. "What are you doing?" I pop the question. She jumps, not expecting me to even be up yet, but with all her fucking rustling.. I can't exactly sleep. "Folding my clothes." she tries. I furrow my brows at her. "Yes, but why are you unfolding them, first?" I ask. "Because they aren't folded  _properly!_ " she says. "Um..okay?" I raise a brow at her.  _E_ _veryone has their quirks._ I yawn. The day passes by quickly.

I get up really early as usual on Saturday to deliver the mail. As I'm heading to the conference room, I hear a fucking crash. I blanch at the sound. I hurry inside to see the green thing  _again._ And a box on the ground, it's contents spilled. Since I'm obviously gonna be seeing this fucking thing every fucking Saturday, I might as well try to communicate with it. Draw some sort of fucking line. Like, I don't fucking know-a happy fucking medium?  _I feel my heart pounding in my fucking throat as I point to the fucking box as the beady eyed fucking green weasel-pig thing stares at me like a fucking statue._ "Um, I'll get in trouble for that..?" I try. A moment later, it peers from its high place down at the box, and blinks at it. Then it fucking squeaks.

And the fucking box and it's fucking contents begin to fucking  _glow._ Then fucking  _float._ And then, magically right itself, as the green thing squeaks again, slinks out of the way, and the box floats up and gently places itself where it was before. I blink at what just happened before me. "Thank you?" I say, hurriedly. It squeaks again, before nosing it's way around. "Um.." I hear myself say stupidly, as the green pig snout weasel slinks down a shelf. My eyes slide over to the money box, then back at the green thing. "I gotta work." I say, and as silently as possible, I close the door behind me and begin inching towards the desk, staring at the being snooping around the conference room for shit to steal.  _But I'm not gonna fuck with it. Magic is badass. And I'm a fucking freshman. Which means I don't stand a fucking chance. No fucking way in fucking hell._ As quietly as I can, I sit down, take out my fucking keys, and  _it fucking jingles. And the green thing looks at me with a snort._ I blanch, freezing where I fucking sit, feeling my heart hammering.  _This can't be fucking healthy._  It just fucking stares at me for a bit, then gets back to what the fuck it was doing.

I open the box, and hesitantly get to work-allotting every freshman their five bucks. Soon, I ease into it, and when I'm done, I record where the money goes.  _Which goes by surprisingly quickly._ I turn and put the records neatly on the other side of the desk, and when I look back,  _the green thing is snuffing inside the box._ I stare at it as it retreats, apparently not finding anything satisfactory to steal.  _But it's fucking money._ Which is something that I don't understand. It slinks down to the ground, where a tiny portal opens up, before entering it. When it does, the portal closes behind it, and  _it's fucking gone. Again._ I blink. "Okay, then." I whisper to myself, because the green thing is fucking weird, but hey.  _Magic is fucking weird._ I close and lock the money box, then set out to deliver the mail and allowances. I return the mailbag and lock the conference room door behind me.

When I get back to my room with everyone's allowances, I find something has been left there for me while I was away. It's a tiny fucking card with painted fucking  _Forget-Me-Not_ blue fucking flowers on it. There's no signature-just my name, and a  _'Don't Forget'_  fucking handwritten on the back. I frown at the offending card.  _Damien._ I palm my forehead, groaning in annoyance.  _The fucking pretty boy wanted to hang out today._ If he's left for the fucking mall, and I look for him, Professor Grabiner will have my fucking hide.  _I should have fucking told Damien earlier._ And if I go straight to detention, the pretty boy will make my life a living hell. Even more so than it already fucking is. "Shit." I hear myself, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to fucking decide which is the lesser of the fucking evils.  _And suddenly, I vividly remember teleporting Donald._ I grin. "Alright, pretty boy. Time for a talk.  _Now._ " I close my room's door, stand in the middle of the hall, and concentrate.

 _Think blue skinned, bat winged, purple haired fucking Halloween decoration._ I inhale, then exhale.  _Damien Ramsey. Damien Ramsey._ I chant inwardly, bringing both hands in front of me.  _Damien Ramsey. Damien Ramsey. Damien Ramsey, in front of me._ And I hear a pop, a yelp, a thud, then I hesitantly open one eye.  _And there he is. On the ground._ I literally want to jump for joy but I feel drained for some fucking reason.  _So I grin stupidly._ I grab him hurriedly and start marching off with him in a rush of adrenaline. "Okay, pretty boy. I've got detention, so I can't hang out with you this week." I say, letting go of him as I turn a corner. "So no bitching, okay? That's why I teleported you. Now you know, so run along. I gotta go, or Grabby will skin me." I tell him, and he blinks at me. I rush to detention, leaving Damien behind.

Thankfully, I arrive a little bit early.  _Donald was there, first, though._ I take a seat, and just then, Professor Grabiner comes in. "Miss Fatima. Mister Danson." he eyes the both of us, brows furrowed.  _I decide to ignore him, looking at the box that the green thing put back to normal on Saturday._  "Must I forever be burdened with this nonsense?" he sighs. "If that's what you call saving a fellow classmate from suspen-" I feel my voice catch in my throat as  _the fucking green thing pops its fucking head out from behind the fucking box._ "-sion." I finish my sentence dumbly, staring at the thing. "What are you looking at?" Donald asks, and in my peripheral, I see him looking up at the box- _and he doesn't fucking see it?! It's literally right fucking there!_

"Um." I hear myself, not taking my eyes off of it. It stiffly slinks to the other side of the top of the shelf. "Miss Fatima?" Professor Grabiner frowns. I slowly raise my hand and point, and as he looks, the green thing moves a box slightly. The professor raises both brows. He sighs in exasperation. "Ignore it, Miss Fatima." he instructs. "Now, since the both of you are being punished for the same offense, you will receive the same punishment." he says, and I see him pointing to the two large glass jars in front of us, filled with pebbles from my peripheral. "Miss Fatima." he voices sternly. Once the green thing is to the other side, it starts snuffing around. "Ignore it." he orders. "Sir, I can't exactly  _ignore it_ if I can  _see it about to steal something._ " I stress, and Donald jumps in his chair when the green thing picks up a tube of gold fucking glitter. I frown, knitting my brows.

Professor Grabiner procures his wand, whispers a chant, and I can see fucking sparkles around the green fucking thing. "Whoa. What's that?" I hear Donald. I glance at Professor Grabiner glaring at it.  _And I see it's tiny, black, beady, fucking bulging eyes staring back at Professor Grabiner._ "Fresh out of the nest, I see. You do know it is against this tower's rules to steal, correct?" he frowns at it. And it just stares at him for a few long minutes.  _Tower?_ I glance back at him curiously. "Very well, we shall take this to the Headmistress." he sighs in exasperation, whispering a chant-and it pops out of existence, leaving the tube of gold glitter behind.  _And into his hand._ Now holding the squeaking and squirming green thing by the scruff of its neck, Professor Grabiner turns to us. "You will each take one jar. You will take out each pebble individually, by hand. You will place each pebble on the table, forming two separate stacks." he says. "After you have removed each pebble, you will write down the total number of pebbles that were in the jar. You will then return all of the pebbles to your jar, by hand." he instructs, and the green thing begins squeaking louder, and whisking it's long body around in protest.

"I have ways of detecting whether or not each pebble has been touched. Do not attempt to shirk." he frowns. "Do you understand?" he confirms. "Sure." Donald affirms. "What is that?" he asks. "A misbehaving child, Mister Danson." Professor Grabiner informs. "And if your count is off, or you attempt to pocket any of the pebbles, I will lock you in this room with no food or water until Monday." he sneers. I smile at him.  _I dare you. See what fucking happens, Grabby. I can teleport out, asshole._ But I'm not gonna tell  _him_ that.  _Or teleport you in._ His eyes linger on mine a moment, and he frowns at me. "Get on with it." he says, stalking out of the room, closing the door behind him-the green thing louder than ever. Once out, the green thing can no longer be heard.  _I hope they don't hurt it._ My eyes linger on the door momentarily.

"What's the point of this?" I ask, looking at Donald. "Boredom." he rolls his eyes. "That's all." he says. I snort. We get to work. A few moments later, "Sorry I got you into this." he speaks up. "Was my decision." I tell him. "I mean-" I try, pausing my work. "It wouldn't have been right to let them think you were trying to hurt me, when you weren't." I say. "Yeah, well...I knew I was gonna get busted for it, and I didn't warn you." he says. I roll my eyes.  _If he knew if the first place, then why'd he even fucking do it?_ By the end of the day, I had counted, and recounted all the fucking pebbles.  _Four hundred and thirty-two._ And my neck fucking hurts.

_At least I get to go back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silentium means silence.
> 
> If anyone of my readers is good at Latin, please comment an edit. DX I know it's wrong because I use a translator for everything.


	14. An Epiphany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damien visits Amira on a Sunday.  
> "Fucking pretty boy."  
> "I also saw...a memory of Mom. She..."  
> Onto a better topic, Amira went to see Medea.  
> "...she took it too far."  
> "And it was extremely long."  
> Because you're not used to sitting through them.  
> "No fucking kidding."  
> Now for the juicy part...  
> "Don't you fucking dare, author!"  
> Aw, why so red? You love him. You know it!  
> "I! I! I do not!"  
> Let's leave it at that before all her blood goes to her face.  
> "Shut up!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST, my computer crashed and I lost my save data so I'm quite fearful that the spells learning will get fucked up.
> 
> Also, I am actually putting in Medea in here the best I can interpret, from a video and from a script I've found on google. I will mark the beginning and end of the play so you can skip it if you want to-but I suggest reading it because the ending is pretty good-I tried, I really did, but feel free to correct me if need be. Scroll down semi-slowly so you don't miss the marks if you want to skip the play.
> 
> NOTICE: I may or may not be giving into my temptation of going onto hiatus and reading Spiral Bound. Because I have this gut feeling it's gonna be badass. And it's gonna take awhile for me to get it off my brain so I don't unintentionally use it all up in this story like a reject. And it'd cheer me up from losing all of my work.
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

I'm relaxing Sunday morning, when I hear a gentle knock on the fucking door. I frown at it. "Coming." I groan, forcing myself up from the comfort of my bed. I open the door a smidgen to see  _purple._ "Damien." I hear myself. "Uh.." I start dumbly, trying to think of something. "Hello." he smiles brightly. "Hi..?" I try, furrowing my brows. "Um." I avert my gaze. "Yesterday." I hear myself, snapping my eyes back to him. "Sorry for teleporting you so suddenly yesterday. I thought you were already at the mall, and-" I feel my voice catch in my throat awkwardly. "Don't be." he chuckles. "Though I would've appreciated a warning, the whole hall thought your desperate attempt to see me adorable." he winks. I blanch.  _I can only fucking nod because his ego makes me wanna puke._ "So...some other time, then?" he starts.  _Not a fucking date._ I calm myself down. "Sure." I tell him.

Monday morning, "Um..Amira?" Ellen calls out to me. "Yeah?" I look at her, waiting for her to speak. "Do you like theater? Plays?" she asks. "I don't know..." I trail. "Why?" I ask. "Well...the Drama Club is doing  _Medea_ this week, and I kind of want to see it, but I don't want to go by myself." she says. "Medea?" I ask. "It's a classic Greek tragedy. It's about a witch who's lover betrays her, and the terrible things she does for revenge." she explains. "Doesn't sound really nice." I frown. "That's why it's a tragedy!" she exclaims. "They're doing it Friday and Saturday night, and I was thinking I'd rather go Friday." she says.  _And I remember Professor Grabiner mentioning a play being a part of this whole fucking fundraising event._ "Oh, the fundraiser." I think out loud. "How much?" I ask. "Five dollars for students." she informs. "So...do you want to come?" she asks. "Sure thing." I say. "Thanks." she smiles.

As much as I don't fucking want to, I really should stop avoiding Professor Grabiner. So I hurriedly pencil in Red Magic classes for the fucking week before I decide against it.  _Because avoiding him means no fucking relic. And no fucking relic means.._ I shiver. I rush to class for the day, willing the thought from my mind. I take an available seat as far away from the fucking board as possible. Moments later, Professor Grabiner arrives,  _and I feel his eyes on me._ I pointedly ignore  _him._ And in doing so, I fucking fail  _miserably._ And after class, as I'm getting up, Professor Grabiner calls out to me. "Miss Fatima, you will be required to stay." he says. I hesitantly sit back down. I hear snickers behind me as the students file out,  _they are still quite daring in the presence of Grabby._ They are immediately silenced by his piercing glare.

"Alright, now, Miss Fatima. Come here." he beckons. I get up hesitantly, and begin heading over. As I do, he places his giant book on the desk. Next to it, is..? I furrow my brows as he gently picks the broken old thing up, holding it up to me for me to see. "This is a piece of the relic Petunia spoke of." he informs.  _It had a large chunk broken off of it, it was round, old, rickety, and looked like it had been in water for God knows how fucking long, but you could still tell what the fuck it was by the stems in the middle of it._ "It's a gear." I stare at it. My eyes meet the center,  _and I see the bust of a woman._ I glance up at him, and he's got a brow raised at me like it's obvious. "Shaped like one, indeed, but it is a rune to control your affliction." he assures. I look back down at it.  _A very fucking familiar woman._ "It has a woman in the middle of it." I frown. "Let us just say, the previous owner had rather.. _eccentric_ tastes, shall we?" he says, tone dry. I take it, carefully. When it's in my hands, I feel something somehow pull a huge part of me away from Iris Academy.

_...did I get knocked out?_

_Darkness. All I could see was darkness._ All I could feel were  _voices_ surrounding me. Then suddenly, I feel like I'm high in the fucking sky. I gasp at the sensation, trying to move my limbs in a fucking panic.  _ **Amusing.**_ I make out from the muddled... _thoughts?_ ** _But not._** I feel something  _slightly feminine_ correct me.  _Thoughts but not?_ It chuckles.  ** _Intrigue..._** I feel the one who was at the way back come forward.  ** _Silentium. Visus patitur eam._** I feel a sickly hiss.  _From a once powerful woman._ The voices have halted.  _They fucking shrunk back._ I feel her near me. I stiffen.  _No. She is still powerful._

Then suddenly, I'm fucking whirling- _plummeting_ -in the darkness. But I feel a different place-somewhere far away enter my head.

* * *

The moment Miss Fatima takes the rune, she stills. Her eyes widen minutely, accompanied by a sharp intake of air, before her eyes go dull.  _Outside, it looks to be an outer body experience._ I note to myself as I take my wand, walking around my desk.  _But inside...?_ I chant a few simple diagnostic spells, and detect something else that is not supposed to be there.  _It is minuscule-extremely well hidden, but..it is still there._ I immediately begin the chant for Farspeak, feeling my blood run cold at it's familiarity.  _A force beyond comprehension._ "Petunia-" I call. "I'm on my way." she interrupts.  _"Hurry."_ I spur her. I clench my jaw, willing the incident of Violet off my mind. I begin to pace.

* * *

I feel pulsing, something fucking pulsing against me in the darkness as a wide open field comes into sight. I cover my eyes, because it's so fucking bright, resting it only when I adjust.  _It's wide._ It's open.  _Grass and flowers expanding as far as the eye can fucking see._ Then there's another fucking pulse, as it crashes into the trees far off. A slight twinge as it sprouts forth fucking  _mountains._ The wind is moving everything. Everything but me.  _While everything moves, I am kept still._ I look down, and my  _fucking legs are fucking transparent._ But I couldn't bring myself to care. Then I feel a wave. I look up to see a picturesque moving image of a young man laying on a woman's lap. When my eyes land on the woman, I feel my heart drop.

 _She was completely blurred out._ But I know that hair.  _It's mine. It's.._ I reach up to my own hair.  _ **It's your mother.**_ I feel a voice tingle somewhere deep inside of me. That same fucking voice, from the fucking Dark Dance.  _With that same fucking tone as before._

* * *

Eventually, Petunia arrives, wand in hand. "I felt a peculiar energy  _within_ the Academy's boundaries." she heads towards Miss Fatima, frowning. "I never thought eir kin to be prone to doing such a thing but.." she trails, chanting a spell under her breath.  _A complex one that I do not recognize._ "..this aura is different from before.." she furrows her brows. She hums.  _From before? Does she mean, the stunt she-_ I widen my eyes in an epiphany. "Sentient." I whisper in wonder.  _What would a sentient want with a mere wildseed?_  "There is more than one holding her consciousness elsewhere, I assure you." she looks at me, serious. "A collective being, but not." she tries, looking back at Miss Fatima with a hum. I furrow my brows.  _Then..._ "A mass sentient?" I try. Moments of silence pass by.

"Impossible. With the sealing I've cast onto-" her eyes widen minutely. "It had been broken before now." she says, awestruck.  _Something rarely seen in a Witch of Petunia's caliber._  "What do you mean?" I ask, wanting answers. She proceeds to ignore me, chanting more complex spells up her breath.

* * *

I head closer. "If I were God, what wish would you want me to grant?" I hear the man's soft tone. "Every life has it's limits." the woman says. "Even God?" he asks. She chuckles, knowingly. "And his maker." she says. "That's deep." he gives a breathless laugh. Moments pass. I watch. "Do you believe?" she asks, and he hums. "In?" he asks back. "Magic." I  _feel_ her smile. "Depends, really." he shrugs. "It's either a yes or no." she says, amused. "I do." he smiles, closing his eyes. "Then, will you promise me something?" she asks. "Maybe. If it's within my capabilities." he says.

 _**"** _ **_Si autem videtis me quasi secundum se,"_ **

_The scene begins to crack._

_**"** _ **_Ergo plura esse."_ **

_It begins to burn._

He opens his eyes, staring up at her. "Promise what?" he asks.

_It begins to fade..._

_**"**_ ** _Septima fieri. Et ultimum annota. Et finalem. Qui confirmant illam. Hoc est perdere."_** her voice echoed.  _I could understand her. She.._ _ **Wanted to be destroyed.**_ I feel the voice. But I couldn't bring any fucking emotion up.  _She radiated pain. Sorrow. I could do nothing. I could feel nothing. I could only watch._

**_"In universum orbem terrarum et hoc in ea..."_ **

_'_ _Support this world in it's entirety..'_ I recite, somehow understanding her language.  _ **Latin.**_ The voice rings.

**_"...et si iungi miscerique ad fetus."_ **

_'_ _and merge with the offspring.'_ she said. If this is what mom wants, then..  _I'll fucking do it._ I open my mouth the same time as the young man, "I promise." and everything turns white.

* * *

"It's the bastard that took Violet." I finally speak up, through clenched teeth. "If it is, then they mean no harm this time, Hieronymous." she says, with a shrug. I stare at her, disbelieving. "Mean no harm?!" I yell. "It is an-" I start, and Petunia moves her wand to my forehead. "It is more than one entity holding her. Calm yourself, Hieronymous, or I will be forced to erase your memory of this incident. Do not make me do it." she threatens. I bite my tongue, because Petunia would do it.  _As law dictates, any who witness sentient beings at work must be brainwashed. Thus why so little is known about them.._

I inhale deeply, then exhale. "Petunia." I prepare myself, "Just what  _is_ Miss Fatima?" then proceed to ask her. She frowns thoughtfully, lowering her wand. "Law dictates I tell only those related to her lawfully, or by blood." she says. "Indeed." I say.

"Mayer-Rokitansky-Küster-Hauser Syndrome." she informs after a moments pause. I blink, confused. "She has the internal organs of a normal human female, however, they remain underdeveloped." she explains. I hum, realizing that Petunia will not tell me who or what she is-choosing to merely give me a lead.  _Interesting._ Considering her ability to not only sense, but memorize  _magic,_ which is an ability a human could never hope to possess... _She is commonly referred to as E,_ I realize. "A changeling?" I question out loud. "I assure you, she is not-alarmingly so. Records of her biological mother say  _human,_  and her father is also human-I have also checked, and they are indeed blood related." she explains. I frown thoughtfully.  _A subject quite interesting. Maybe a look at the records I have may-_   "I will warn you ahead of time, do not do anything stupid, or I may have to force you into doing something you would very much hate- _should it be within my power._ " she warns strictly, interrupting my mindset, stressing the last part.  _Old habits die hard._ I sigh. "I know, Supreme Judge." I formally call her, bowing. She raises a brow. "Very well." she says.

She looks back to Miss Fatima. "She is returning. Slowly, but surely." she says, and I look to her as well.  _I will away the desire to question Petunia further._

* * *

The white fades into the classroom back at Iris Academy. I'm looking down at the gear, and I vividly remember everything that happened. I feel my heart race.  _I feel my emotions come back in a fucking flurry._ "Amira, darling?" I hear Professor Potsdam. I snap my head up.  _Professor Potsdam._ "I-" I choke up on myself, and I hurry to speak. "I don't know what happened, but when I took the gear, there was darkness and there were voices, it's hard to explain-but I couldn't hear the voices but I could  _feel_ them, and then there was this woman, this presence-" I blurt out, and Professor Potsdam grabs my shoulders. "Amira, dear, calm down." she smiles, soothingly.  _Hyperventilating,_ I take Professor Potsdam's advice. Then the floodgates open.  _I see a blur of someone behind her-is that Professor Grabiner?_ Professor Potsdam holds me close.  _Mom..._ "...was there..." I struggle to get out. "Who was there, dear?" she pulls away. "Mom." I sob. Professor Potsdam looks back at Professor Grabiner. He nods, then leaves. I lift my glasses to wipe away my tears with one hand, the gear in the other.

Professor Potsdam waits for me to get a grip on myself, and it takes a while until I feel I can trust my fucking voice. "She was in pain. She..." I try to explain, but I can't find the words.  _She said something about the seventh._  "...seventh." I whisper. "Hm?" she blinks. "She said something about the seventh. The last one. The final." I try. She frowns thoughtfully. "To..." I look at the gear. "...the man who owned this. She made him promise to destroy her. She...Mom was in pain. She was sad, and-" I try some more. "Amira, dear." she starts. I feel magic pulse, and see a barrier shimmer around us. "Do you know hat Oraculum means, darling?" she furrows her brows at me. I blink at her. "That's my middle name." I say. "It is." she nods. "But do you know what it stands for?" she asks. I look down. I shake my head.  _No._  She sighs softly. "Darling, you..." she starts, closing her eyes. "...never mind." she sighs again. She pats my head, releasing the barrier around us. "You don't have to attend class tomorrow if you don't want to." she says. "The next day, though..." she smiles. "I will." I say. She takes the gear gently. "Go to bed early, okay?" she says. I nod.

I habitually get ready for class Tuesday morning, and the day flies by. I pay extra attention, trying to get my mind off yesterday. I learn Push Object. On Wednesday, I'm getting ready for dinner when someone knocks on the fucking door. I open it to see Donald. "Oh, hi. What's up?" I greet. I move my gaze to the guy next to him, curiously.  _Logan?_  I see a Wolf Hall symbol.  _Nope. It's Luke._ "Want to earn some easy merits?" Donald asks. "Doing what?" I look back at Donald, furrowing my brows. "Butching and backing and candlestick-making." Luke says. I raise my brows. "'Butching'? That's not the right word!" Donald laughs. "It could be. She's a Horse." Luke says. I frown.  _I'm not in the fucking mood for games._ "You ever been kicked by one?" I say in sync with Donald, and Donald guffaws.  _I was fucking serious, asshole._ "What did you want?" I frown deeply at them. "He already said!" Donald grins. "You in or not?" he asks. I roll my eyes.  _If I do it, it should get my mind off things._ "Whatever. Lead on." I tell them.

The boys lead me to the Black Magic classroom-the only classroom that has a stove set up in the back which is normally use for potions-making. There's several pots and a collection of lidless cylinders on the floor nearby.  _Candles. Right._ I remember what Luke says. "There you are!" I hear a familiar voice sing.  _Professor Potsdam._ "Now, if you'll just hold still for a moment..." she trails, and I feel waves of green magic roll over us.  _And I feel stronger._ Maybe Boost Strength? "This should improve your resistance to heat, and stop you from burning yourself too easily. Of course, you'll still need to be careful." she explains. "Especially you, Mister Phifer." she smiles at him. He looks away. "Yes, ma'am." he pouts. "You have an instruction sheet here with all the steps, including the proportions for the dyes and fragrance oils." she explains, pointing towards a desk with the instructional manual on it. "Do you have any questions?" she asks. "We're cool." Donald says.

"All right! I'm going out for awhile, but I'll be back shortly to keep on eye on things." she informs. "Don't worry, I won't interfere." she smiles. "I might even bring my knitting!" she sings. She walks out, leaving us in the room to our devices. I sigh.  _Alright, Amira. Focus._ "Candles for the fundraiser, right?" I ask. "Yup." Donald affirms. I remember his fire dragon stunt that got us both put in detention last week. "So she's not still mad at you about last week's stunt, then?" I ask Donald. "Who, Potsdam? Nah." he shrugs. "She was never really mad. She  _loves_ me." he says. I snort. "If she loves you so much, why doesn't she marry you?" Luke beats me to the punch. "She's an old lady, you goon!" Donald laughs. I roll my eyes.  _I don't really care about age when it comes to the topic of love, but..._

"We shouldn't really talk like this, in case she comes back.." I trail. "Right. Candles." Donald says. "Their made like..." I trail, heading towards to instructions. "Set up the wick, melt the wax, pour it in, then cool it down. Easy." Donald says. I frown at him, before taking the instructions and giving them a once over. "Seal?" I think out loud. "Black Magic." Donald says. "What, you don't-" he starts, and I glare at him.  _I dare you. I will fucking do it again._ He shuts up. Kind of.  _Holding back snickers._ "Sorry, sorry." he apologizes. "You run the wax, and Luke can do the wicks." Donald suggests. "Sure." Luke says, and gets to work. I get to work, as well, with Donald instructing me. "I have a manual, you know." I tell him. "Speaking is easier. Gets stuff done faster." he grins.

"Okay, the wax is set up in a double boiler." Donald says. "Make sure there's always water in there, and keep an eye on the temperature. If the wax get too hot it will explode." he explains. "Explode? Would make sense as to why Professor Potsdam cast Boost Strength on us..." I trail. Donald blinks at me. "She heat-proofed us." he corrects. I roll my eyes. "Just keep an eye on it. As long as you're watching, we'll have time to catch it if it starts going wrong." he explains. "When the wax chunks are melted down, mix in the oil and the color, then stir it with a wooden spoon." he instructs. "And you've done this before?" I raise a brow at him, "Nope. I've read the instructions. Not that hard." he says. I frown at him. "Once a pot is ready, you can pour it into the molds." he says, pointing to the cylinders. "You get to bark orders while we work. Hurray." I say, sarcastically. He snorts. "I get the hard part. You'll see." he says.

After a while, Luke and I have finished our first batch of candles. "All right, stand back. Here I go." he starts a chant under his breath. I can feel a combination of Red Magic and Black Magic in the air, and a twinge of Blue Magic as well.  _Whoa. It's fucking complex._ I decide to stay silent, and after a minute, he relaxes. "There you go!" he grins. "You can cut off the ends now." he says. I look inside the mold. Not only has it fucking cooled, but it's also fucking shrunk in away from the sides of the mold, completely fucking  _evenly._ "You can't cool it all at once, or it'll collapse. And if you leave it to cool on its own it sinks full of holes. So it's tricky." Donald says.

"Couldn't you just use Blue Magic to transform it? Or Black Magic to shape it? But then..." I trail. "Wouldn't work right afterwards." Luke says.  _Because it might not blend._ I realize. "It wouldn't blend right." he says. I nod. We cut off the ends, and set this batch aside to be used in the fundraiser, then begin our next batch-and Professor Potsdam returns. It's not all that difficult to do-making candles-but doing it over and over repeatedly can be quite tiring. Later in the day, when we've finished all of the fucking orders, and we're finishing up, Professor Potsdam claps happily. "Wonderful work, ducklings!" she sings. "Ten merits for each of you." she smiles.  _A job well done._ We all make our way out, and I stretch with a loud yawn.

Thursday, I learn Warm. Friday, I fail the lesson.  _Fuck._ But thankfully, Professor Grabiner didn't tell me to stay behind like earlier in the week.  _It's gonna take awhile to get over that bullshit._ That evening, Ellen and I meet outside the gym. There's a shit ton of people here-not just the students, but ordinary people and families who came up here to see the play.  _Medea._ _The witch who's lover betrays her, and the terrible things she does for revenge._ After we buy our tickets, we can go inside. Folding chairs were set up in rows across the gym floor, facing the stage. And behind the stage, a giant fucking backdrop painting hangs on the fucking wall, displaying marble pillars and steps to suggest a fantasy of Ancient Greece.  _It can't be a fucking painting. It's too fucking huge. It had to be an illusion._ We find a place to sit without anyone too tall in front of us.

* * *

_**oOo:oOo:oOo** _

* * *

After awhile, the soft thrumming of ceremonial drums can be heard, and the crowd's murmurs fall silent. The stage goes dark as a string instrument- _a harp, I think? But it sounds more foreign-_ plays, along with a flute, and I squint to see someone hurrying onto the stage, before kneeling down. The lights turn back on, and a girl's voice could be heard, coming from the robed girl kneeling on the ground. The introductory music halts. "How I wish the Argo's sails had never swept through the dark blue Clashing Rocks into the land of the Colchians.." she recites, loud enough for the crowd to hear, raising herself up, looking to the ceiling. "I wish the pine trees had never fallen in the groves of Pelion, cut down to put oars in the hands of the heroes who went after the golden fleece for Pelias." she recites. "Then my mistress Medea would not have sailed to the fortress of Iolcus' land, her heart battered by love for Jason." she shakes her head, looking down. "And she would not have convinced the daughters of Pelias to kill their father and would not have come to live here on Corinthian soil with her husband and children, winning over the citizens of the country she had come to as a refugee, and obliging Jason in every way." she says, holding her arm up. "This is what brings the greatest stability at home: when a woman does not challenge her husband. It has all gone sour now..." she sighs woefully, resting her arm. From under her robes, she procures a simple wooden walking stick. "...affection turned to hatred." she recites, hauling herself up as if she were an old woman.

"Jason has cast aside his children and my mistress, and now goes to bed in a royal marriage with the daughter of Creon who governs this land." she says, walking slowly across the stage.  _That's sick. He's sick._ I listen intently. "And Medea, in despair, rejected by her husband, howls out  _"the oaths he swore"_  and calls upon the right hand, a potent symbol of fidelity, and invokes the Gods to witness Jason's treatment of her." she pauses her steps. "She won't eat; she just gives in to her grief, washing away all her hours in tears, ever since she realized her husband had abandoned her." she recites. "She never looks up or raises her face from the ground..." she shakes her head. I frown, getting into the story. "She is like a rock or wave of the sea when those who love her try to give advice; except that sometimes she lifts up her pallid face and mourns for her dear father, her country, and the home she betrayed to come here with this man who now holds her in contempt." she recites.

"The poor woman knows from bitter loss what it means to have once had a homeland." she takes a step, dramatically clenching her robes. "And she hates her children, takes no pleasure in seeing them." she sobs slightly,  _in a way you can tell she's really into the role._ "I'm afraid of her, in case she has some new plan in mind. She is a deep thinker, you know, and she will not put up with this kind of abuse." she says, and starts walking slowly again. "I know her and I am terrified that in silence entering the house where the bed is laid she might thrust a sharp sword through the heart or kill the princess and the one who married her and then suffer some greater tragedy." she says. "She is frightening. It won't be easy for an enemy to come out victorious in a battle with her." she says. There's some purposeful noise and laughing in the background. "But here come the children from their play. They know nothing of their mother's troubles for the childish heart is not used to grief." she sighs, woefully turning around to meet the three new actors coming on stage.

Two of them run up to her, and hug her. One tugs away her walking stick playfully, and she laughs, releasing it. Then they run off stage. "Pedagogue is coming up-the man who cares for the boys." Ellen explains in a very hushed voice. "Well, there's my mistress' long-time slave. Why are you standing here alone in front of the doors grumbling about your troubles to yourself?" he moves up to the girl playing the old woman, reciting his lines. "How is it that Medea is willing to be left on her own?" he asks. "Look, you've cared for Jason's children all these years and you know that when the masters are in trouble, good slaves share in the disaster and their hearts are touched too." she replies. "Such deep sadness came over me that I needed to come out here and tell Earth and Sky the sorrows my mistress is suffering." she sighs. "Is the poor woman still feeling sorry for herself?" Pedagogue asks. "I'd like to be in your shoes. She has barely started." she says. "Oh the fool!" he exclaims. I frown.  _She's not a fool for crying because the man she loved to pieces became a complete asshole. Asshole._ I keep my thoughts to myself. "Oops, sorry for the outburst." he apologizes.

"And yet she knows nothing of the latest troubles..." he trails. "What is it, old man? Please tell me." she spurs him. "It's nothing. I'm sorry it slipped out." he tries to hide the trouble. "I beg you, please, do not hide this from your fellow slave. If need be, I can keep it secret." she tries to get him to speak. "Yes, well, I heard someone saying, though I was pretending not to listen, as I was passing the tables where the old men sit to play checkers, you know, next to the sacred fountain of Peirene, that these children with their mother-well, the king of this country, Creon, plans to banish them all from Corinthian territory." he informs. I feel my heart drop, and I have to remind myself,  _it's a fucking play._ "Whether the story is true I am not sure. Of course, I hope it is not." he says.  _I keep telling myself it's a fucking play, but I can't contain my reactions._ The King wants to banish her because-why?  _Her husband fucking cheated on her?_ I watch intently. "And Jason puts up with his children being treated like that, even though he is estranged from their mother?" she asks. He shakes his head. "Old ties give way to new ones. He is not interested in this family." he says.

"It's all over for us, if we take on new troubles on top of the old, before they have been drained out." she recites. "But listen-it is not a good time for the mistress to find out about this-so keep it quiet." he says. She nods. The same two from before come back to the stage. "Children, do you hear what kind of man your father is to you? Damn him! But no, I can't say that. He is my master." she turns to them, reciting her lines, as they run up to her. "Still he has turned out to be a traitor to his family..." she sighs. "What else do you expect? Are you just figuring out that everyone loves himself more than his neighbor?" Pedagogue asks, as the boys give her back her stick. "Their father doesn't care about these children now that he has a new wife." she says to him, gently pushing the two towards Pedagogue.

"Go on-everything will be just fine-in you go, children." she says, before looking back at him. "But, as best you can, keep them by themselves and don't let them go near their mother in the mood she's in." she warns. "I have seen her giving them that wild animal glare, as if she is planning to do something to them. She will not give up her rage-I'm sure of that-before she strikes out at someone. I pray it will be enemies and not loved ones she hurts." she sighs deeply. From backstage to the left, a loud mournful, woeful cry can be heard. "I hate my life. How can I put an end to it?" she wails dramatically. "Here it comes, my dear children. Your mother is stirring up her heart, stirring up her resentment." she says. "Hurry along inside the house. And try not to let her see you; do not go near her, but watch out for her savage mood and the loathing that issues from her stubborn nature." she warns. "Go on now, run along inside, quick, quick." she hurries them along, and the three go backstage to the right quickly and quietly.

"It is clear that a dark cloud of sorrow is flaring up from its first flicker and soon will ignite into a greater passion. What will it do-her raging spirit, so hard to quell, now that it is battered with abuse?" she recites towards the left. "I am in agony, I am so brutally misused. You horrible children, of a mother who hates you. God damn you with your father, and the whole house go to Hell." the voice from backstage recites loudly, angrily. "Oh, the sorrow of it all! Why do you entangle the children in their father's wrongdoing? Why do you hate them? Ah me, dear children, how much I grieve for you..." she brings her walking stick close to her chest. "Tyrants' tempers are insufferable: they are seldom under control, their power is far-reaching. It is hard for them to swallow their rages." she recites, dramatically looking away from the left-towards the crowd. "To get used to living on terms of equality is better. Look at me. I only hope that it's my luck to grow old in security, not among the high and mighty." she says.

"The golden mean, first just to say its name should win a prize, to apply it is by far the greatest achievement." she recites. "But excess never should have a place in our lives. It brings all the greater ruin when some God feels spite toward a house." she brings her walking stick down slowly, as three girls walk on stage. "I heard a sound." the first girl says. "I heard a cry from the unhappy Colchian woman, not yet gentled." the third one says. "And you, old woman, talk to us." the middle girl says-positioned slightly in front of the other two girls. "While standing in my doorway I heard a cry from inside this house. And I felt sorry for the troubles of the family, since it is dear to me." the third one recites.

"There is no more house. It's all gone." the robed girl acting as the old woman sighs. "Royal sheets enfold him now but she weeps away her life, my mistress, taking no comfort in the words of those who love her." she shakes her head, looking down. To the left, Medea's actress cries out once more. "Oh, Zeus and Earth and Light! Hurl your fiery bolt of lightning straight through my skull. What use is life to me?" she exclaims. "Let me die and leave this life I hate..." her voice fades out. "Did you hear?  _"Oh, Zeus and Earth and Light"_  such a shrill cry the unhappy bride intones." the first girl looks between the other two. "Why this futile longing for the bed you have lost? It will carry you to an early grave. Do not pray for that." The third one says disapprovingly. "If your husband services a new bed that is his affair. Do not fret." the middle girl says. "Zeus will set this right. Do not weep so much, mourning for your lost husband." the third one says.

"O' great Themis and Lady Artemis, do you see what I suffer, though I bound him with mighty oaths, that perjurer, my husband?" Medea wails. "I wish I could see him and his bride ground down to nothing, house and all, who have dared to wrong me first." Medea recites. "Father, the city from which I am torn away from after I killed my brother in cold blood for  _him!_ " she hisses, angrily. "Do you hear what she says, crying out to Themis we invoke in prayer and to Zeus, the caretaker of oaths for the human race?" she asks. "There is no way that my mistress will vent her anger in some small way." she shakes her head. " Is there any way you could get her to come out to see us and hear the sound of our words spoken in comfort?" the first one asks. "If only she would somehow put aside her deeply felt anger and distemper, I am eager to help those dear to me." the third one says. "But please go in and bring her here out of the house. Repeat our words. They are spoken from the heart." the middle girl implores. "Hurry before she hurts anyone inside. Her grief is stirred up to such a pitch." the third one spurs.

"I will try but I am afraid I will not persuade my mistress." the robed girl sighs. "Still I do not begrudge you the effort. Yet it's with the look of a lioness who has just given birth that she glares at the servants-or like a bull-when anyone ventures near her, trying to bring a word of solace." she says. "You would not be wrong in saying they were fools, not wise at all, those men of earlier times who invented songs for festivals, feasts, and dinner parties joyful sounds full of life." she says. "But no one has found a way with music on the lyre with all its strings to stop the hateful torments people suffer-deaths and terrible fates that bring down our homes." she sighs. "And yet it would help us all to be able to cure sadness with songs. Where there is a plentiful feast, why lift the voice aimlessly?" she recites as she beginning to make her way off the stage. "The fullness of the table has delight enough in itself for most of us." she recites, before exiting the stage.

"I heard the sound of laments, full of despair; she cries out shrill sad sounds of mourning at the betrayer of her marriage-bed, her evil husband." the first girl goes up to the other two girls. "For the injustice she suffers, she invokes Themis, keeper of oaths, daughter of Zeus, who brought her into Greece from a faraway land over the sea by night through Pontus' gate, hard to pass." the third girl tells the other two, sadly. The lights go dark, silently announcing the next scene-and lots of shuffling around on stage. Soon, the stage lights up once more, showing the three girls lined up on the right, and the robed girl bowing behind a beautifully dressed girl who held her chin high on the right.  _Medea?_

After a while, Medea's actress speaks. "Women of Corinth, I have come out of the house, so that you will not hold anything against me. I know that many people are standoffish, some in the privacy of home and others in the public sphere. Some people, because they are shy, have acquired the ill repute of indifference." she recites her lines. "There is no justice in people's perception: there are some who, before they know a person inside out, hate him on sight, even if they have never been wronged by him." she says. "An outsider, in particular, must conform to the city." she says, and the three girls nod. "A native too: I do not condone self-absorbed people who through insensitivity irritate their neighbors." she says, and the three girls stand their ground. I smile, trying to keep myself silent.  _She just insulted them indirectly. I understand why she doesn't want them around. She's...mourning._ "But for me, this unexpected disaster has wrecked my life. I am cast adrift. I have lost all pleasure in living and I want to die, my friends." she sighs, purposefully. "The man who was everything to me, try to understand this, has turned out to be the vilest man alive, my own husband." she says, raising her arms to emphasize.

"Of all creatures that have life and reason we women are the sorriest lot: first we must at a great expenditure of money buy a husband and even take on a master over our body: this evil is more galling than the first." she rests her arms. "Here is the most challenging contest, whether we will get a bad man or a good one. Besides, divorce is unsavory for a woman and it is not possible to say no to one's husband." she says. "And when she comes into new customs and rules a woman must be a prophet of what she could never learn at home: how best to deal with her marriage partner; and if we get it worked out well and a husband shares our life with us, and he bears the yoke without violence, life is to be envied." she recites. "Otherwise we are better off dead. But the man, when he is bored with things at home he can go out to ease the weariness of his heart." she says.

"But we have just one person to look to. They say that we live a life free of danger at home while they face the battle with the spear." she says, pointing past the audience. She rests her arm. "How wrong they are. I would rather stand three times in the line of battle than once bear a child." she hisses, engrossed in her role. But the same story does not apply to you and me. You have this city and your father's home, enjoyment of life, and the companionship of friends, but, alone and without a city, I am abused by my husband, carried off as plunder from a foreign land, I have no mother, no brother, no relative to offer me a safe haven from this disaster." she says, waltzing over the the three girls.

"I ask you this one small favor..." she halts in the middle of the stage. "...if some way or means can be found to make my husband pay for this abuse, and the father of the bride and the bride herself-keep it silent. For a woman in all other things is full of fear and a coward when it comes to looking on deeds of valor and the sword but when she is wronged in her marriage there is no heart more bloodthirsty." she says.  _Makes sense. I would...be like that, too._ "I will do this. It is right that your husband should pay, Medea. I am not surprised that you grieve over your loss. But I see Creon, king of this country, coming, a messenger of some new proclamation." the middle girl cranes her neck, and the group goes behind Medea. A lavishly dressed actor comes on stage, followed by two in front of him, and two behind him.  _Creon, the King. And his bodyguards._

"You there, with the scowl on your face, raging against your husband, Medea, I command you to leave this land, taking your two children with you." he points at her, reciting his lines from the safety in the center of his guard. "Do not delay. Of this sentence of banishment, I am both judge and jury and I will not go back home again until I have cast you outside the borders of my country." he commands, resting his hand. "I am ruined...desperate! My enemies are unfurling all the sails and there is no clear landing place from ruin." she places the back of her hand on her forehead delicately. "But still, though I am in dire straits, I want to know the reason. Why? Why are you banishing me from this country, Creon?" she asks.

"I am afraid of you-no need to cover up my reasons-in case you do some irreparable harm to my daughter." he says.  _Fucking prejudice._ "Many factors contribute to my dread: you are innately clever and skilled in many evils, and you are grieved because your husband has been taken from you. I hear that you are making threats: against the father of the bride, the bridegroom, and the bride, to do us some injury-this is the news they bring me." he informs.  _Why the fuck wouldn't she?!_ I tamper myself down, and lean back in my chair. "I shall take precautions against all this. It is better to suffer your hatred, madam, than to be soft now and regret it later." he says. She rests her hand. "This is not the first time, Creon, but over and over again, people's opinion has injured me and done me great harm." she says, woefully. "A man who has full use of his faculties should not educate his children in any special skills; apart from the reputation they get for being unproductive, they will reap the enmity of the citizens." she says. "If you try to show some clever innovation to the inept you will seem useless and hardly skilled at all; if people in the city suspect you of being superior to those they believe ingenious you will irritate them." she recites.

"And I share in this fate myself: because I have skills, I suffer the envy of some, and to others, I am a rival; but I am not so very clever. And then you are afraid of me. What harm can you suffer from me?" she asks, her tone disbelieving. "It is not in my power-don't be afraid of me, Creon-to do wrong to the royal family." she takes a step forward, and the guards make a small defensive show. "What wrong have you done me? You married your daughter to the man you chose for her. But my husband, I do hate him." she, as Medea, admits. "You, I think, have acted with good sense in this. Now I do not begrudge you your good fortune." she says. "Give your daughter in marriage, prosper; but let me live in this land. I have been wronged, but I will keep quiet, defeated by my betters." she tries, to no avail.

"Your words are cajoling to my ears, but inside my heart, I am afraid you are forming some evil new plan, so much the less I trust you than before." Creon says. "For a quick-tempered woman-the same goes for a man-is easier to guard against than a silent clever one. But you must leave at once. No more arguments." he commands her. "The matter is settled and you are not so clever that you can stay here in our midst, being an enemy to me." he says. "No, please, at your knees.." she throws herself before him. "...I beg you in the name of the new bride." she tries.

"You are wasting words. You will never get your way." he waves his hand dramatically, commanding her away. But she stays. "But will you drive me away and not respect my prayers?" she asks. "Yes, because I care less for you than for my own family." he says. "O' homeland," she wails dramatically, "how deeply now I remember you." from her place on the stage floor. "Yes, after my children, it is by far the dearest thing to me." he nods, heading up to her, kneeling before her crumpled form-holding her hand. "Aah, mortal affections, how great an affliction they are!" Medea exclaims. "That, I think, depends on the circumstances." Creon says. "Oh Zeus, never forget who is responsible for this." she says. "Go, you foolish woman, and relieve me of my troubles." Creon commands once more. "I am in trouble and need no more struggles." she weeps.

"Soon you will be forced out at the hands of my guards." Creon threatens. "Not that, I beg you, Creon..." she rises-though still on her knees. "Apparently you are going to make a scene, madam." he says, disapprovingly. "I will go into exile. It was not for that that I supplicated you." she says. He tries to move his hand away from her's. "Why then are you trying to coerce me? Let go of my hand!" he exclaims. "Just one day. Let me stay for one day to make plans how we will manage in exile, and find resources for my children, since their father does not put his children's welfare first." she tries. "Pity them." she implores. "You are a father, too. You have a child and it's natural for you to feel kindly toward them. I'm not concerned for myself, if I have to go into exile, but it breaks my heart if they are to suffer deprivation." she weeps dramatically, holding to him. "My nature is not at all tyrannical, and on many occasions in showing respect I have suffered for it and even now I see that I am making a mistake, madam, but still I will grant you this." he says. "But I warn you if the coming light of the sun finds you and your children inside the borders of this country you will die. That is my final word; it will not be taken back." he threatens, and she releases his hand. He and the four guards exit stage.

"Unhappy woman, unhappy for your miseries. Where will you turn? To what host for shelter?" the third girl asks the distraught Medea. "Or what home or land will you find to rescue you from shipwreck?" the first girl asks. "A God has brought you into an impassable surge of woes, Medea." the middle girl shakes her head, sadly. "Things have gone wrong at every turn. Who can deny it? But this is not how it will be." Medea says, raising herself. "Don't even think it. There are still trials for the newly-weds and for their kin no small troubles." she says. "Do you think that I would ever have fawned on him if not to get something or with some plan in mind?" she sneers. "I would not even have spoken to him or touched his hands." she says. "He has reached such a state of recklessness, that though he could have destroyed all my plans by forcing me out of the country, he has allowed me to remain this one day, in which I will turn three of my enemies into corpses." she waltzes to the right side of the stage. "The father, the daughter, and..." she counts off, halting, then turning around. "...my husband." she tilts her head.  _Whoa, so fucking evil._

"I have many ways to kill them; I do not know which to try first, my friends." she sighs. "Whether I should set the bridal chamber on fire or thrust a sharp sword through her liver, in silence going into the house where the bed is laid. But there is one thing in the way: if I am caught entering the house in secret and carrying out my scheme, I will die and become a laughing stock to my enemies." she recites. She pauses as if in thought. "Best the straight route in which I am most skilled-to take them off with poisons." she says. "So far so good." she says. "And then they are dead. What city will take me in? What friend abroad will offer me asylum and a secure home and save my life?" she begins making her way back to the group of girls. "There is none. Let me wait a short time in case some tower of strength will occur to me and then with deceit and in silence proceed to the murder." she says, halting before them.

"But if I am driven by resourceless misfortune I will myself take the sword-even if I must die-and kill them-I will go to such an extreme of daring." she taps her chin. "No!" she whirls around. "By the mistress I worship most of all and have chosen as my helpmate, Hecate, dwelling in the inmost recesses of my hearth, no one will bruise and batter my heart and get away with it." she says. "I will make their marriage bitter and painful, bitter the royal connection and my exile from this land." she gives a breathy, manic laugh. "But come. Spare nothing of what you know, Medea, planning and scheming." she speaks to herself, halting. "Go now to the edge. This is a contest for heroes." she tells herself. "You see what you suffer. You must not be a laughing stock to these sons of Sisyphus and this marriage of Jason, you who are born of a noble father, son of the Sun god. But you know all that." she says.

She turns around, facing the group of girls. "And besides we are women, most helpless for the good, but skilled craftsmen of all that is evil." she says. "Backward flow streams of holy rivers and justice and all things are being turned back. For men's counsels are deceitful, and the pledge taken in the Gods' name is no longer firmly fixed." the third girl says.  _I like her._ "New tales will give glory to my life; honor is coming to the female of the species; discordant rumors will let women go." the first girl says. "The Muses will cease from their songs of ages past from their paeans to our faithlessness. Not to our mind has Phoebus, the leader of tunes, granted the inspired song of the lyre; for I could sing a song in response to the race of men. But long life has much to tell of our side and of men's." the middle girl recites.

"You sailed from your father's home with maddened heart between the double rocks of the sea and you live on foreign soil, abandoned, with no man in your marriage bed, poor woman, now an exile from this land you are driven away without rights." the third girl says. "But the grace of oaths has gone; respect no more abides in the vast lands of Hellas, but it has flown to the skies and you no more have the house of your father to shelter you, poor woman, from troubles. And over the bed another queen more powerful stands now in the chamber." the first girl says.

The lights go dark again, silently announcing the next scene once more. Soon, the stage lights up, showing the King's bodyguards, and a new actor in the middle. "This is not the first time, but over and over again, I have seen how utterly stupid an intransigent temper can be. You had the chance to stay in this country and keep your home by patiently putting up with what your betters decide, but now you have had your say and for it, you are to be deported." he recites his lines.  _Putting two and two together, it must be Jason._ "It makes no difference to me: never let up saying that Jason is the vilest man alive. But for what you have said against the royal family think yourself lucky to be punished with exile." he says. "I was constantly trying to assuage the passions of the rulers in their anger and I wanted you to stay." he says. "But you could not control your craziness, never letting up on your abuse of the royal family. That is why you are to be exiled from this land." he recites.

He walks up to Medea. "Still, in spite of this I have not come to renounce my loved ones, but because I care for your well-being, woman, so that you will not go into exile with the children in need or wanting for anything." he says. "Exile brings many problems in its wake. Even if you hate me I could never think badly of you." he says.  _Then way marry another woman, asshole?_ I frown. "You..." she starts, grasping her gown. "You, utterly vile...this is the worst charge I have to say against your total lack of manliness." she hisses, angrily, turning away from him. "You have come to me, you who are most hateful to the Gods and to me and to the whole human race?" she asks, incredulous. "This is not daring; this is not courage, to abuse your loved ones and look them in the face, this is the most virulent of all human sicknesses, shamelessness. Still, you have done me a favor in coming." she says, slowly turning back to him.

"I will lighten my grief by reviling you and you will feel the sting in hearing it. I will begin at the beginning." she says. "I saved your skin, as all the Greeks know who boarded the Argo with you, when you were sent to master the fire-breathing bulls with yokes and to sow the deadly field; and the dragon which guarded the golden fleece and, never sleeping, protected it with its many coils, I killed it and held up the light of safety for you." she recites. "As for me, after betraying my father and my home I came to Iolcus near Pelion with you, eager but not prudent." she says. "Then I killed Pelias, in the way that he would die most tragically at the hands of his own children and I confounded their  _entire_  house." she spat. "And you, after receiving this from me, you, the vilest man alive, you have betrayed me, and you have made a new marriage, though you already have children." she says.

"If you were still childless you could be excused for craving another marriage bed. Gone is the faith of oaths. I cannot understand whether you believe the old Gods are no longer in power or that new covenants are established for men today, since you must know that you have not kept your oath to me." she says. "Ah, right hand, how fervently you were taken and these knees, how futilely I was clung to in supplication by an evil man." she sighs dramatically. " But I have lost my hopes." she shakes her head, turning away. "Listen. I will share with you as if you were a friend. And what will I get out of it?" she says.

"Still...under questioning, you will appear more shameless. Now, where will I turn? To my father's house which I betrayed for you along with my native land, when I came here? Or to the unhappy daughters of Pelias? They would be delighted to take me in. I murdered their father." she says. "This is how it is. I have made myself an enemy to my loved ones at home, the very ones I should not have hurt; in helping you I have enemies." she recites. "And for this you have made me an icon of Greek womanhood: I have in you a wonderful husband and faithful to me—oh, the pity of it if I must go into exile, cast out of this country without friends, a lonely mother with two lonely children, a fine reproach to the new bridegroom that your children are homeless beggars, and the woman who saved your life." she says.

"Oh, Zeus! Why have you given us a clear test of gold to tell which is counterfeit but of men-where to identify an evil one would be useful-there is no such mark on his body?" she holds her arms to the air. "Anger is frightening and hard to remedy when loved ones join in strife with loved ones." the first girl says. "I must, it seems, practice my rhetorical skills, and, like the skillful captain of a ship, shortening my sails, outrun the blasts of your tongue-lashing, woman." Jason says.  _Or take it like a fucking man and divorce the bitch and grovel before Medea._ I force myself to contain a snort.  _Like that would placate her, anyway, though._ "And, since you make such a mountain of it I think that Kypris, God of love, was the savior of my expedition, and she was the only one of Gods or men." he recites. "You have a subtle mind, and it would be tedious to go through every detail of the story, how with his inescapable arrows Love compelled you to save me." he says.

"Still, I will not put too fine a point on it. However much you have benefited me, all well and good." he says. "But you certainly got more out of saving me than you put in, as I will demonstrate. First, you make your home in Greece instead of an alien land and you experience justice and the rule of law, not merely brute force." he says. "All the Greeks are aware that you are a wise woman and you have fame. If you still lived at the ends of the earth, no one would know your story." he recites. "For me, let me have no gold in my home; give me no song to sing sweeter than Orpheus' if my fate is to be unknown. This much I had to say about my labors." he says. "You are the one who turned our discussion into a contest." he shakes his head, disapprovingly. "Now the reproaches you heap on my royal marriage, here I will prove first that I did the smart thing and showed good sense and finally that I am a great benefactor to you and my children." he says, and she raises her hand, as if she were about to speak. "Let me finish." he orders. She gives him a dramatic glare.

"When I arrived here from the land of Iolcus dragging with me many useless encumbrances, what luckier opportunity could I have found than, as a refugee, to marry the king's daughter?" he asks. "It is not what is eating you, that I hated my marriage to you and was infatuated by desire of my new bride, and not that I had a craving for more and more children-the ones I have are enough and I am satisfied with them-"  _Then why fucking marry another woman?!_  "-but so that-and this is the point-we might live well and not be in need." he recites. I frown at that. "I am well aware that even a friend shuns a poor man and stays out of his way, and I wanted to bring up children worthily of my house, and father brothers to your children and put them on an equal footing and join the families so that we could live well. What do you need with children?" he asks. "It's in my interest to help my living children with future offspring. Have I made bad plans? You would not say so if the marriage bed did not gnaw at you." he says.

"But you have reached such a point, you women, that if your marriage is in good order you think you have it all, but if anything goes wrong in your marriage the best and finest things you count as their opposite." he says. "There should be some other way for men to produce children. Women would not have to exist at all." he recites, shaking his head.  _Women aren't fucking baby machines. Women have fragile hearts. Women-_ "And then humanity would be saved a lot of trouble." he says. I calm myself down yet again, pulling myself away from getting too into it.  _This is just a fucking play._

"Jason, you have given a very effective speech. But still to me-even if I speak out of character-you seem, in abandoning your wife, not to be doing the right thing." the middle girl pipes up, reciting her lines. Moments later, Medea's actress speaks. "In many ways, I am different from most people." she recites, clasping her hands. "For in my estimation anyone who is dishonest but speaks well deserves the greatest censure." she nods, turning around towards the girls. "In his confidence that he can conceal his injustice with rhetoric, he has the heart for any wrong." she says. "But he is not so very clever." she says, then looks back to Jason. "And you, then, do not try your specious argument on me. For one word will lay you flat: you should, if you were not despicable, have made this marriage only after convincing me, and not in secret from your loved ones." she argues. "Yes, of course, you would have been a fine confederate in this plan, if I had told you of the marriage, when even now you do not have the mettle to put aside the great anger in your heart." Jason's actor recites. "That is not what stopped you, but your foreign marriage was not turning out glorious enough for you as you approach old age." Medea's actress says.

"You may be certain of this: it was not because of the woman that I made the marriage into the royal family which I now enjoy, but just as I said before, wanting to give you security and to father royal brothers for my children, a support for my house." he says. "I pray never to have a happy life that is painful to me nor wealth that eats away at my heart." she looks away from him. "Do you know how to change your prayer and appear wiser?" he asks. "Pray that good things should never seem painful to you and, being well off, not to think that you are suffering misfortune." he says.

Moments pass before she speaks again. "Carry on with your abuse, since you have a way out, but I am abandoned and exiled from this country." she says. "It is your own choice. Don't blame anyone but yourself." he tells her. "And what did I do?" she turns to him slowly. "Get married and  _abandon_  you?" she asks of him. "You uttered curses against the royal house." he tells her. "Yes, and to your house, I really am a curse." she says, icily-turning away from him again. "I will not carry on this quarrel any longer." he sighs dramatically. "But if you want to take me up on my offer of money for the children or your own exile say so." he recites. "I am ready to be generous to you and to send letters to friends abroad who will take care of you. And you are a fool, if you refuse my offer, woman. Put aside your venom and you might get somewhere." he commands.

"We will not be making use of your friends; I will not take anything from you; don't give me anything. The gift of a bad man brings no pleasure." she says. "I call the Gods to witness that I want to help you and the children in every way I can." he raises his arms, the lowers them. "My generosity is not enough for you, but in your stubbornness, you push your friends away. You hurt yourself all the more." he says, and he, along with his entourage, exits the stage. "Go. The desire for your new bride overcomes you when you spend too much time away from the house." she seethes when he exits the stage, making her way over to where he was. "Get on with your marriage. Perhaps with Gods' help, it will be said you have made a marriage that you will soon regret." she recites.

"Love coming on too strong does not give glory or virtue to men." the first girl says. "But if Kypris comes in moderation, no other Goddess is so gracious." the middle girl says. "Never, oh Goddess, let fly at me an inescapable arrow from your golden bow, after you drench it in desire." the third one prays. "But I pray that composure be my friend, the finest gift of the Gods." the middle girl says. "Dreaded Kypris, never hit me with quarrelsome angers and insatiable strife, after stinging my heart for another bed, but honoring a match free of conflict, wisely discern women's love." the third one prays.

"Fatherland, home, let me not be stateless, leading a life without means, hard to get through, full of the most pitiable sorrows. Let me die, yes, die, before reaching that day; of troubles, there is no other worse than separation from one's native land." the first one recites. "We have seen it and do not have this story from others to reflect upon; no city, no friend pities you, as you suffer the most terrible of sufferings. Without grace may he perish who does not treat his loved ones honorably unbolting his heart in pure love. He will never be a friend of mine." the middle one recites.

The lights go dark again, silently announcing the next scene again. When it lights back up, "Medea, hello." a new actor appears with a differently dressed entourage, greeting Medea. "For no one knows a better way than this to address friends and wish them well." he recites. "Hello to you too, Aigeus, son of Pandion the wise." she greets back with a courtly nod. "What brings you to this country?" she asks. "I have just come from the time-honored oracle of Phoebus Apollo." he replies. "And why did you visit the oracular navel of the world?" Medea asks. "To ask how I might get a child." Aigeus sighs, sadly. I blink curiously.  _Impotency..?_

"Dear Gods, are you still childless at your time of life?" Medea's actress asks dramatically. "Yes, we are childless, through an affliction from some deity." he says. "Do you have a wife or do you keep a celibate bed?" she makes her way up to him. "I share my bed with my wife." he says. "What then did Phoebus tell you about children?" she asks. "Words wiser than a man can understand." he sighs. "Are you permitted to share with me the God's message?" she asks. "Oh yes, since it needs a discerning mind." he replies. "What then did the oracle respond? Tell me if I am allowed to hear." she implores.

"Not to loose the projecting foot of my wine sack..." he says. "Until after you do what? Or reach what country?" she coaxes. "Until I come again to my own home." he replies. "Why then are you passing through this country?" she asks. "There is a man named Pittheus, King of Trozen..." he recites. "The son, it is said, of Pelops, a most god-fearing man." she says. "I want to communicate the God's oracle to him." he informs. "Yes, for he is a prudent man and skilled in such things." she says. "And he is, besides, the most friendly of my allies." he says. "May you fare well, and gain your heart's desire." she bows.

"But why do I see your face and complexion so wasted?" he asks. She takes a moment to answer. "Aigeus, my husband is the world's most wicked man." she recites. "What are you saying? Tell me clearly why you are downcast." he recites. "Jason wrongs me though I have done nothing to him." Medea says. "What has he done? Tell me everything." Aigeus implores. "He has taken a new wife, to be mistress of his house over me." she says, woefully. "He would not have dared such a despicable act." he recites, tone disbelieving. "You may be sure he did. And we who were loved before are now rejected." she says. "Did he fall in love, or grow weary of his marriage to you?" he asks. "Yes, very much in love. He is disloyal to his family." she says, shaking her head.

"Let it go then, if, as you say, he is wicked." he says. "He has fallen in love with marrying into a royal family." she informs. "And who is the father of the bride? Finish the story." he commands. "Creon, who rules this country of Corinth." she says. "No wonder you are upset, my lady." he sighs. "I am ruined. And besides that I am driven into exile." she recites, turning around. "By whom? This is yet another new tragedy." he says. "Creon has banished me from Corinth." she says. "And Jason permits it? I don't approve of that." he says.

"He says he does not, but he is willing to put up with it." she turns back to him. "But I beg you by your beard and I fall suppliant at your knees," she kneels before him. "pity me, pity me in my despair and do not let me be driven out destitute, but take me in to share your home and country." she begs. "And then with the Gods' help I pray your desire for children will bear fruit and you yourself die happy." she recites her lines. "You do not know what a lucky find you have found in me." she says. "I will put an end to your childlessness and help you become a father. I know how to concoct a potent elixir." she informs.

"There are many reasons that I am eager to grant you this favor, my lady, first out of reverence for the gods and then in the hope of children whose birth you predict." he says to her. "For I am in utter despair over it." he shakes his head. "This is how it is with me. If you come to my land I will do my best as a man of honor to receive you as my guest." he says. "This much I will promise you, Medea: I am not prepared to give you escort from this place, but if on your own you come to my home, you will remain there under protection and I will not deliver you up to anyone." he vows. "But you must make your way from this country for I want to be free from blame in the eyes of my hosts here." he says.

"Yes, I will do that. But if there could be a pledge to me of these things, I will have everything I need from you." she says, getting up. "Don't you trust me? Or what is troubling you?" he asks. "I trust you. But the house of Pelias is my enemy and so is Creon. If you are bound by an oath you will not hand me over to them if they try to take me away from your country." she says. "But if you come to terms in words only, without an oath to the Gods, you could become their friend and you might yield to their heralds." she says. "For I am in desperate straits, and they have all the wealth and royal power." she says.

"I see you are taking every precaution. If you think it's best, I will not refuse to do as you ask." he says. "This way things will be safer for me too: I will have a pretext to offer to your enemies and you will be more secure. Bring on the Gods." he recites. "Swear by the plain of Earth, and Helios the Sun, father of my father, and add the whole race of Gods." she implores. "To do and avoid doing what? Put it into words." he coaxes. "Never yourself to cast me out of your country nor if anyone else of my enemies desires to take me away, ever to give me up of your own free will." she says. "I swear by Earth and the bright light of Helios and all the Gods to abide by your words." he makes the oath.  _I have a bad feeling about this._

"It is sufficient. And if you do not keep your word, what will you suffer?" she asks. "What happens to all men who break their oaths." he recites. "Farewell on your journey. All is well; I will come to your city as soon as possible, when I have done what I intend to do and achieved what I desire." she says. He and his entourage then leave the stage. "May Lord Hermes, son of Maia, the kindly escort, guide you to your home, and may you accomplish what you desire, Aigeus, because you have proven to me that you are a good and generous man." the third girl says.

"Oh, Zeus and Justice, daughter of Zeus, and light of the Sun!" Medea raises her arms, looking up. "I shall be victorious over my enemies now, my friends. I have set out upon my journey." she recites. "Now I have hope that my enemies will pay the price. For where I was most in trouble, this man appeared as a safe haven of my plans: to him I shall attach a cable to guide me there, going to the city and fortress of Pallas Athena." she says. "And now I shall tell you all my plans." she says, lowering her arms-still looking up. "Hear my words though there is no pleasure in them. I will send one of my servants to Jason, asking him to come into my sight." she says. "And when he comes I will speak to him ingratiating words, how I agree with him in all these things and everything is fine-this royal marriage he has made, after betraying me." she says. "And I will say that it is advantageous and sensible. But I will beg for my children to stay here, not that I would leave my children in hostile territory, for my enemies to abuse, but so that with deceit I may kill the King's daughter." she recites.

"For I shall send my children with gifts in their hands, bringing them to the bride, asking reprieve from exile, a finely woven dress and a tiara of beaten gold." she plans. "And if she takes them in her hands and puts them on her flesh, she and anyone who touches her will die a horrible death, so potent is the poison I will smear on the gifts. After this it is a brand new story." she says. "I grieve the deed I must do after this.." she shakes her head. "For I shall kill my children. There is no one who will rescue them." she says, shakily; resolutely. "And after confounding Jason's whole house, I shall leave the country, in flight from the murder of the children I love, after daring a most unholy deed." she plots. "For it is not tolerable to be laughed at by my enemies, friends. Let it pass." she recites. "What good is life to me?" she asks. "I have no homeland, I have no home as a refuge from evils. I made my mistake when I abandoned my father's house, won over by the words of a Greek man, who will, with God's help pay for this." she says. "The children born from me, he will never again see them alive, for the rest of his life, and he will not father a child from the newly-wedded bride, since she, the wretch, must die wretchedly through my poisons." she says. "Let no one think that I am mean or weak nor peaceful, but of the other sort, a weight upon my enemies but to my friends most kind. It is to such people the heroic way of life belongs." she says.

"Since you have shared this story with us, in our desire to help you and in keeping with human values, we beg you not to do this." the third girl begs. "I will not change my mind." Medea says, turning to them. "I understand why you would say this, you are not suffering abuse as I am." she recites. "Will you dare to kill your own flesh and blood, Medea?" the first girl asks. "Yes, this will cause my husband to feel the most pain." Medea informs. "Never mind. All other words are in vain." she says. "Nurse-servant! I summon you." Medea recites a demand. The girl dressed as the elderly woman arrives, bowing low, in silence. "Go and bring Jason here." Medea commands. "For we rely on you in all confidential matters. Tell him nothing of my decisions, if you care for the well-being of your Mistress and are a real woman." she says. The nurse then leaves.

"Descendants of Erechtheus, wealthy of old and children of the blessed Gods, from a land holy and unconquered, feeding on most glorious wisdom always stepping delicately through the brightest air, there once they say the nine Muses of Pieria gave birth to Golden Harmony." the third girl recites. "They sing the tale that Kypris drawing water at the streams of fair-flowing Kephisos breathes gentle sweet-smelling auras of winds over the land; and always putting on her hair a fragrant garland of rose blossoms, she sends the Loves, co-workers with wisdom, helpers of every sort of excellence." the middle girl says. "How then will the city of holy rivers, the land that gives safe-passage to friends, welcome you, child-killer, not holy with the others?" the first one recites to Medea. "Picture the blow to the children; picture the murder you are committing. Do not," the first girl goes up to Medea, followed by the other two, kneeling before her. "At your knees in every way we beseech you, do not kill your children." the first girl begs. "Where will you get the boldness of mind to confer upon your hand or heart, that terrible daring?" the middle girl follows, kneeling. "And, how, when you cast your eyes on the children will you take part in their murder without weeping?" the third girl recites, dramatically-following the two before her. " No, you cannot-when your children fall begging-wet your hand in their blood keeping an iron-willed heart." the first one attempts to change Medea's mind. Medea then turns around, waving them off-uncaring of their attempt. The three girls get up, and head back to the place they were. Jason and his entourage arrive on the stage moments after.

"I have come at your bidding. For even though you hate me I shall not fail you, but I will hear what it is you want from me now, woman." Jason says. "Jason, I ask you to forgive me for the things I said before. You're used to putting up with my temper, since so many acts of love have passed between us." Medea says. "I have gone over the arguments with myself and I reproached myself," she says. "Stubborn woman, why do I rave and show hatred to those who wish me well, and make myself an enemy to the rulers of this country and to my husband who is doing the most advantageous things for us in marrying royalty and fathering brothers for my children?" she recites. "Shall I not give up my anger-what is wrong with me? The Gods provide well." she says. "Don't I have children, don't I know that I am a refugee in need of friends?" she asks, face toward the ceiling. "In contemplating these things I realized I was suffering delusion and that my rage was in vain. I accept it now." she says, taking a few steps at a time towards Jason. "You seem to me to be acting logically in bringing us this marriage alliance, and I was foolish." she recites, closer to him-she stops.

"You seem to me to be acting logically in bringing us this marriage alliance, and I was foolish." she says. "But we are what we are, we women: I will not say evil." she says. "But you should not copy our faults; don't repay our craziness in kind. I give up and admit that I was wrong then, but now I have come to a better way of thinking." she recites. "Children, children, come out of the house." she beckons, and the three from the beginning of the play walk on stage, walking up to Medea. "Greet your father and speak to him with me and give up our earlier hostility to become friends again, along with your mother." she tells them. "We have made a truce and our anger is over. Take his right hand." she says. "Oh me, for our troubles: secret sorrows flood into my mind." she says. "My children, will you live for a long time to stretch out your dear arms in this way?" she reaches to the two in front of her. "Ah!" she exclaims dramatically, turning around. "I am near tears and full of fear." she recites, turning back to them.

"At long last, I have put aside the strife with your father, and tears fill my tender sight." she recites. "And for me too, tears well up in my eyes." the middle girl says. "I pray there will be no greater sorrows than the present ones." the third girl says. "These things I approve of, woman, and I do not blame you for the past." Jason approves. "It is natural for the female of the species to give way to passions when a husband takes on another marriage, but your heart has changed for the better and you have recognized the winning argument, in your own good time." he says-two of the boys walking up to him. " This is the action of an intelligent woman." he says. "And, children, it was not without sound planning that your father arranged greater security for you, with Gods' help. For I think that one day along with your brothers you will be in the top rank of Corinthian society, when you grow up." he tells the two. " The rest your father is taking care of and any of the Gods who are propitious to me." he says, and Medea once more turns away. "May I see you well-grown reaching your early manhood, superior to my enemies." he says, then looking to Medea. "But you there, why do your eyes glisten with tears, why do you turn away your pale face, and not gladly accept my words?" he asks her.

Then there was a pause.  _That's when I notice that Medea is plotting still._

"It's nothing. I was thinking about my children." Medea says, turning back to them. "Cheer up now. I will do right by them." Jason vows. "Yes." she recites. Then there was another pause-but this time shorter. "As you say. I do not disbelieve your words. But a woman is a mere female naturally given to tears." she recites. "Why then are you grieving over your children?" he asks. "I gave birth to them." she says, simply. "And when you prayed that they would live, pity came over me wondering if this would happen." she says. "Some of the reasons I had for inviting you into this exchange have already been said. Now let me tell you the rest." she recites. "Since the royal family has determined to send me into exile-and I agree that this is best, I understand it very well, for me not to stay here as an encumbrance to you and the rulers of the country, since I appear to be their enemy-I will then lift anchor in exile from this land, but the children-they should be raised by your hand." she implores. "Ask Creon not to exile them from his territory." she begs.

"I'm not sure I can convince him, but still it is worth a try." Jason replies. "Then tell your new wife to ask her father not to exile the children from this country." she tries. "Yes, of course, and I think I will convince her." he says. "You will if she is a woman like the rest. I will lend a hand in this effort too."I will send her gifts which are the most lovely in all the world, I am sure of it, by far the most lovely: a fine dress and a tiara of beaten gold and my children carrying them." she says. "Quick, one of my servants, bring here the ornaments." she commands, and someone new enters the stage with a tiara and a piece of long cloth- _must be the dress._ "She will be happy not in just one but in countless ways: in you, she has a most excellent husband and she will also possess these ornaments which Helios, the Sun, father of my father gave to his descendants." she says. "Take these wedding gifts into your hands, children, and give them to the happy royal bride. She will receive most perfect gifts." she gestures for the servant to hand the gifts to the boys, and he does. "But why, you foolish woman, do you deprive yourself of these? Do you think the King's house is in need of dresses or gold?" Jason asks. "Keep them. Don't give them away." he implores. "If my wife has any respect for me at all she prefers me to gold, I am certain." he refers to his new bride.

"Oh, no you don't. The saying goes  _gifts persuade the gods_. And  _gold is stronger than ten thousand words among men._ " Medea recites. "She has divine favor, now the Gods will increase it. In her youth she has power. But to save my children from exile I would give my life, not gold alone." she says. "But, children, go into the wealthy house to your father's new wife, my mistress, supplicate her, beg her not to send you into exile, hand her the ornaments-this is very important-make sure that she takes these gifts into her own hands." she implores them. "Go, quickly. And may you succeed and be bearers of good news to your mother of what she wants to hear." she says. Jason and his entourage exit the stage, followed by Pedagogue and the boys.

"Now I have no more hopes for the children's life-no more. They go now to murder." the third girl says. "The bride will receive the gifts, the poor woman will take the doom of the golden diadem; onto her golden hair she will put Death's adornment, taking it in her own hands." the first girl says. "The beauty and unfading glow of the golden robe will persuade her to put on the well-crafted crown. She will dress as a bride now for the dead below." the middle girl says. "Into such a snare will she fall and into the destiny of death, unhappy girl. She can not escape her doom." the first girl recites. "But you, unhappy, ill-wedded son-in-law of kings unknowing to your children you are bringing doom, and to your wife hateful death." the middle girl says. "Unhappy man, how far you have strayed from your destiny." the first girl says. "And most of all I lament your grief, unhappy mother of children whom you will murder-your own children, for the sake of the marriage bed, which your husband lawlessly deserted and now he dwells with another spouse." the third girl says.

Pedagogue then enters the stage. "Mistress, your children are pardoned from exile and the royal bride happily took the gifts in her hands. There is peace from that quarter for your children." he recites to his mistress, who is turned away. "Why do you stand in confusion when the news is good? Why have you turned away your face and do not gladly accept this word from me?" he asks. "Aah!" Medea wails. "That is not in tune with my message." he says. "Aah!" Medea exclaims again, covering her face with her hands. "You told what you had to tell. I do not blame you." she says. "Why then is your face downcast and why are you crying?" he asks. "It has to be, old man. For the gods and I..." she recites, then sighs dramatically. "Yes, I with faulty reasoning have devised these things." she says.  _Is she regretting it now?_ "Cheer up. You too will come home with your children's help." he implores his mistress.

"I will send others home before that, unhappy woman that I am." she turns to him. "You are not the only woman to be separated from her children. As humans we must lightly bear misfortunes." he attempts. "I will do that. But go into the house and prepare for the children what they need for today." she commands, and Pedagogue exits the stage. "Children, children, you have a city and a home in which, when you have left me in my misery, you will dwell forever deprived of a mother." she beckons the boys, and they come to her. "And I will go to another country, a refugee, where I cannot delight in you or see you happy. I will never adorn your nuptial bath and bride and marriage bed, never hold up the wedding torch. My own daring has wrecked my life." she says. "Dear, dear children all my care for you has gone to waste!" she exclaims. "What a waste the toils which wore me out, when I endured the hard useless pangs of childbirth. Truly once, grief-stricken though I am now, I had high hopes in you, that you would care for me in my old age and when I died, with your own hands you would tend me, something we all hope for." she recites.

"But now it's all gone, my sweet expectation. For without you I will live a life of sorrow, agonizing for me." Medea says. "And you, with those dear eyes of yours, will never again look at your mother, when you have gone away to another life." she tells them. "Ah!" she exclaims. "Why are your eyes staring at mine, children? Why do you smile that very last smile?" she recites. "Ah!" she exclaims again. "What will I do? My heart is not in it, women, when I look at the gleaming eyes of my children. I could not do it. Goodbye, my plans from before. I shall take my children with me." she says. I raise my brows. "But what is the matter with me? Do I want to be a laughing stock, letting my enemies go unpunished?" she asks. "These things must be endured. Damn my cowardice! How could I let soft words into my heart? Go into the house, children." she commands, and they take a step back. "Whoever is not permitted to partake of my sacrifice stay away. I shall not let my hand grow slack." she says. "Ah. Do not, oh my heart, do not do these things. Let them alone, you miserable woman, spare your children. Living there with me they will delight you." she begins to pace to the other side of the stage.

"No! By the avengers down in Hades!" Medea exclaims vehemently, turning around sharply before pacing to the other side of the stage. The boys slowly begin making their exit. "There is no way that I will leave my children to be abused by my enemies. They must die. And since they must, I who gave them birth will kill them." she argues.  _Kinda like she has multiple personalities._ "The plan is underway and there is no escape. The crown is on her head; dressed in the robes, the royal bride is in her death throes; I am certain of it. Now I shall set out upon a most sorrowful road and I shall send them on one more sorrowful still. I want to speak to my children." she implores them, and they turn back to her just as she arrives at them. "Dear children, give your mother your right hand to kiss." she commands, and they take her hand, taking turns on kissing it. "Oh, dearest hand, dearest mouth, and form and noble face of my children, may you be happy, but there. Your father has ruined everything here." she says, looking at her hand. "Oh, sweet embrace." she hugs them. "Oh, soft skin and lovely breath of my children. Go, go on. I am no longer able to look at you." she shoos them away, and they do as told-heading passed the girls. "I am overcome by wrongs." she says, and the boys exit the stage.

Medea then turns around. "I understand what evil I am about to do but my wrath is stronger even than my thoughts, which is the cause of the greatest wrongs of humankind." she says. "Often before now I have gone through the more subtle stories and I have pored over greater questions than women usually investigate. But we have a Muse too who associates with us for sharing wisdom." the first girl recites. "Not with all of us, out of many women the number of us inspired with the gift of song is small." the third girl says. "I have come to believe that human beings who have never had the experience of rearing children, are much better off than those of us who are parents. Because they never have to worry whether children turn out to be a pleasure for humans or a misery, the childless are free of many troubles." the middle girl says. "But those who have in their houses the sweet bloom of children-I see them worn down by care all the time, first how they will bring up their children right and how they will leave them a livelihood." the third girl says. "And worse than this it remains unclear whether their toil is spent on children who will turn out good or bad." the first girl says. "But one misfortune-last of all and worst for all humankind-I have to say it: yes, suppose they have found sufficient living and the children have grown up to young adulthood and they have turned out to be good. If fate should have it so, along comes Death carrying off their children to Hades." the third girl says. "How then does it profit, in addition to the other woes that the Gods cast upon mortals, to bear this bitterest grief for the sake of children?" the middle girl asks.

Medea then turns back. "My friends, I have been waiting a long time, expecting news of how events are progressing there. The messenger comes into view." she recites. "Now I see one of Jason's servants coming this way. His agitated breathing shows that he brings news of a fresh disaster." she says, as a new actor comes on stage. "Medea, you have perpetrated a terrible, criminal act! You must flee, flee at once. Take ship or chariot, but go." he implores her. "What has happened that I need to take off in this way?" Medea asks. "The royal princess is dead, just now a victim of your poisons and her father, Creon, is dead, too." he says. "That's wonderful news. You will have my eternal gratitude and I will call you my friend." she says, and the messenger rears back slightly-playing appalled. "What are you saying? Have you gone mad, woman? You have destroyed the royal household, and are glad to hear it and have no fear of the consequences?" he asks of her. "I too have something to say in answer to your words. But do not rush off, my friend, tell your tale." she implores. "How did they die? You will give me twice as much pleasure if they died horrible deaths." she recites. "When your two children came in with their father, and went to the bridal chambers we slaves were glad, those of us who had been distressed before by your troubles." he begins. "From ear to ear talk spread quickly that you and your husband had called a truce to your earlier quarrel. One kisses a hand, another the blond heads of the children. I was beside myself with joy and followed along to the women's quarters with the children." he says. "And our mistress, to whom we pay respect now instead of you, before she caught sight of your two children held her eyes fixed eagerly on Jason. But then she covered up her face and turned away her pale cheek, sickened by the approach of the children." he says.  _Of course. Their the kids of her man-kids who's mother he fucked wasn't herself. She'd be jealous._ "But your husband was trying to assuage the rancor and venom of the young woman by telling her this:" he begins.

_"Do not be angry at my family. Won't you stifle your rage and turn back your face. Hold your husband's loved ones as your own, take the gifts, and ask your father to revoke the sentence of exile from my children, for my sake?"_

"And she, when she saw the fine garments did not resist but agreed with her husband in everything, and before father and children were far from the house, she scooped up the fine robe and put it on; then she fitted the golden crown around her curls and with a shimmering mirror arranged her hair, smiling at the lifeless image of her face." he explains. "And then she gets up from her throne and walks through the room, stepping lightly on her delicate feet overjoyed with the gifts, again and again casting an eye upon her arched foot." he says. "Suddenly there was a terrible sight to see: the color drains from her face; her step unsteady, she tries to go back, trembling from head to foot, and barely manages to stumble into her seat and avoid falling on the ground." he explains. "Then an old woman, one of her slaves, thinking a fit from Pan or one of the Gods had seized her, let out a wail, before she saw white foam streaming from her mouth and from her eyes the pupils turned back; and the blood was drained from her skin." he says. "Then there came a terrible cry in answer to the wail. At once one slave ran to her father's rooms, another to her new husband, to tell them what was happening to the bride" he says. "The whole house reverberated with the sound of running feet. By now a fast walker turning the last lap of the course would be reaching his goal." he says. "And the poor woman, her eyes glazed over, stirred from her silence and with a deep groan was trying to get up. But a twofold trouble was warring against her: the crown of gold around her head was spewing out an eerie stream of ravenous fire, and the fine robes, gifts from your children, were eating away the poor girl's beautiful flesh." he explains in detail. "She stands up and tries to escape, but she is on fire. She shakes her head this way and that, trying to throw off the crown, but all the more tightly the gold holds its bonds; and the fire-when she shook her head-burned twice as bright." he says. "Overcome by the disaster she falls to the floor, unrecognizable to the sight of anyone but a parent. The condition of her eyes and her once lovely face were murky, and blood dripped from the top of her head with fire mixed in, and the flesh was dripping from her bones like sap from a pine, through the hidden gnawing of the poisons, a terrible sight." he says. "We were all afraid to touch the body. We had her fate to teach us." he says. "But her poor father in ignorance of the tragedy suddenly bursts into the room and throws himself on the body. He cries out and enfolding her in his arms as he kisses her and speaks to her," he starts.

_"My poor child, which of the gods has mangled you so horribly? Who has made me an aged tomb, to grieve for you. Ah, let me die with you, my child."_

"And when he stopped his weeping and wailing he wanted to raise up his old limbs but was held back by the fine robes like ivy by the shoots of laurel. The struggle was hair-raising." the messenger says. "He wanted to get up on his feet but she held him fast. If he tried to use force she tore the aged flesh from his bones. After a time he was exhausted and the poor man let go of life." he says. "He was not strong enough to fight the disaster. They lie dead together, child and aged father beside her. A tragedy that makes you want to cry." he recites. "In my view, your part is beyond my telling. You will know how to escape punishment. Not for the first time, I find our lives are a shadow, and I am not afraid to say that people who think they have everything figured out and are masters of logic-they are responsible for the greatest folly." he says. "No human being is happy. Strike it rich and you are luckier than your neighbor..." he says, sighing. "...but happy, never." he turns and then he exits the stage.

"The Gods have inflicted many troubles on Jason today and he deserves them." the third girl says. "Unhappy daughter of Creon, done to death, how we pity you for your tragedy, all because of your marriage to Jason." the first girl says. "My friends. I have determined to do the deed at once, to kill my children and leave this land, and not to falter or give my children over to let a hand more hostile murder them." Medea turns to the girls. "They must die and since they must I, who brought them into the world, will kill them." she says, raising her hand to her heart. "But arm yourself, my heart." she says. "Why hesitate to do these tragic, yet necessary, evils?" she asks herself. "Come, unhappy hand of mine, take the sword; take it, move to the dismal turning point of life. Do not be a coward." she recites. "Do not think of your children — how much you love them, how you gave them birth. For this one short day forget your children, and mourn tomorrow." she says. "For even if you kill them still you loved them very much. I am an unhappy woman." she heads passed the girls and exits the stage. The group then relocates to the middle of the stage.

"Earth and all-shining rays of the sun, look down, look down on this godforsaken woman before she lays her murderous, kin-killing hand on her children." the third girl says. "For they are sprung from your golden seed, and when the blood of a god is shed by the hands of men there is much terror. But, Zeus-born light, prevent her, stop her, drive from the house this wretched Fury made murderous by the spirits of vengeance." the middle girl says. "Toil over the young has come to nothing; for nothing you gave birth to your dear children, you who left the most inhospitable entrance of the dark blue Clashing Rocks." the first girl recites. "Wretched one, why does heavy anger of the heart and hateful murder fall upon you?" the third girl asks. "It is hard for mortals to expiate the taint of kindred bloodshed upon the earth, grief comes in tune from the Gods, falling upon the murderers' houses." the first girl says. Then dramatic cries can be heard from where Medea went. "Do you hear the cry? Do you hear the children?" the middle girl asks the other girls. "Oh, miserable, ill-fated woman!" the first girl exclaims.

"Oh, me, what will I do? Where will I run from mother's hand?" the first boy can be heard. "I do not know, dear brother; we are lost." the second boy-backstage-says. "Should I go into the house? I think I should stop the murder of the children." the middle girl says. "Yes, by the Gods, help us. We need you." the first boy says. "How close we are to being trapped beneath the sword!" the second boy exclaims. "Unhappy one, how you are made of rock or iron who will kill the children, whom you birthed, with death by your own hand. I have heard of one woman before this who laid her hands on her own dear children: Ino, maddened by the Gods, when the wife of Zeus sent her wandering from her home." the third girl says. "She plunged, poor woman, into the sea, for the impious death of the children; she stretched her foot over the seashore and with her two children she lost her life." the first girl says. "What could be still more awful? Marriage bed of women full of pain, how many things you have done to us humans, all of them bad!" the middle girl recites.

Then, Jason enters the stage-this time alone. "You there, women standing here at the door, is she still in the house, Medea, who has perpetrated these heinous crimes, or has she taken flight?" Jason asks, gesturing to the group of girls. "She would need to hide herself in the earth or grow wings to lift her body high into the air if she is to avoid revenge from the royal house." he says. "Or does she trust that after killing the rulers of the country she will escape their kinsmen unpunished? he asks. "But I am not so concerned about her as about my children. The family she assaulted will take care of her. I have come to save my children's lives in case Creon's relatives try to do something to them exacting vengeance for their mother's Godless murders." he recites. "Poor man, you do not know into what a depth of evils you have come, Jason, or you would not have uttered these words." the first girl tells him.

"What is it? Does she intend to kill me too?" Jason asks them. "Your children are dead, killed by their mother's hand." the third girl says. "Oh, no! What are you saying? Women, you have doomed me." he recites dramatically. "You need to know that your children are gone." the third girl says. "Where did she kill them? Inside the house or outside?" he asks. "Where did she kill them? Inside the house or outside?" he asks. "Hurry, unlock the doors, now, servants, unfasten the bolts, so I may see the two disasters, my children dead and her..." he builds up the scene. "...I'll make her pay!" he exclaims dramatically. Almost immediately after, something gets pushed onto the stage. It looked like a golden chariot, and in front, two long-bodied dragons-drawn on a huge cardboard cutout. In it was Medea-in each of her arms, one obvious dummy-both covered in fake blood. Medea also had new effects to herself-she was bloody as well. In all the right places.  _Making her look pretty fucking creepy._

"Why are you commanding  _my_ servants-trying to force them to open to doors, to find the bodies and me, the perpetrator?" Medea asks Jason, harshly. "You are wasting your effort." she tells him. "If you need anything from me, say so, but you will never again touch me with your hand." she recites. "Such transport the Sun God, father of my father has given me, a defense against the hand of my enemies." she tells. "You  _abomination!_  You  _vilest_ , most  _hateful_  woman, to the Gods and to me and to the  _whole human race!_ " he calls to her from his place on the other side of the stage hatefully-completely in character.  _Whoa, he's doing it well._ "You had the heart to take the  _sword_  to your own  _children_  to whom you gave birth, and you have left me  _childless and devastated!_  You did these things!" Jason exclaims. "How can you still look on the sunlight and earth, after daring the most appalling deed?! Damn you!" he curses at Medea. "Now I see it, I didn't understand it then, when I brought  _you_ ," he says vehemently. "So hideous a  _monster_ , into Greece, from your home and that barbarous land, betrayer of your father and the country that reared you!" he recites dramatically. "The Gods have hurled you as an avenging spirit against me! For you killed your brother at the hearth and then boarded the beautiful ship Argo!" he exclaims. " _That_  is where you started! But after marrying me and bearing my children, because of the marriage bed you killed them!" he continues acting as if he were outraged.

"There is no Greek woman who would have dared such deeds, any of whom I could have married, but instead chose you, a marriage tie that has ruined me, a lioness, not a woman, with a temper more savage than Tyrrhenian Scylla!" he exclaims. "But not even  _ten thousand curses_  could sting you!" he hisses. "Such boldness is in you!" he recites. "Go, you  _depraved murderer_  of your  _children!_  What is left to me but to cry out for my fate?!" he acts out frustration. "I will not enjoy my new marriage, and the children whom I fathered and brought up I will never be able to speak to them alive, for I have lost them!" he exclaims.

"I could prolong an answer to your words if father Zeus were not aware what you have gotten from me and what you did in return." Medea recites calmly. "You were not going to disrespect your marriage to me and lead a happy life, ridiculing me." she says. "And the royal bride and Creon who arranged the marriage for you were not going to exile me from the country and get away with it." she says. "Remember this, and go ahead and call me lioness if you like and Scylla dwelling in the Tyrrhenian land, I have wrenched your heart as I had to do." she recites. "You will suffer too and share in this tragedy!" Jason exclaims angrily. "You can be certain of that. But the pain becomes pleasure if you do not laugh." Medea replies. "Oh, children, what a terrible mother you had...!" Jason recites, reaching out to the dummies in Medea's arms. "Oh, children, how you were destroyed by your father's disease." Medea says in turn. "My right hand did not strike them!" he exclaims to her. "But your abuse and your new marriage had." she corrects him. "You thought the marriage bed was worth your children's lives...?!" he exclaims, tiredly. "Do you think this a trivial wrong for a woman?" Medea asks. "If she is a good woman...but to you nothing is good." Jasons says. "The children are dead. This  _will_  sting you." Medea says, resolutely. "They are a pollution to you." he says. "The Gods know who began this tragedy." she says. "Then they know the vileness of your heart." he argues.

"Hate me. I, too, hate your irritating voice." Medea tells Jason. "And I  _yours_." Jason spat. "The separation is easy." he says. "What then? I too am eager to make my departure." Medea says. "Allow me to bury my children and mourn over them!" Jason begs. "No, never. I shall bury them with my own hand, taking them to the sanctuary of Hera Akraia so that none of my enemies will defile them by tearing up their graves." she tells him. "And in this land of Sisyphus, I shall authorize a sacred festival and ritual to last forever for this unholy murder. And I shall go myself to the land of Erechtheus to live with Aigeus, the son of Pandion." she recites. "But you, a coward, you will die a coward's death as you deserve, struck on your head by a remnant of the wreck of the Argo seeing a bitter end to your marriage to me." she forewarns bitterly. "But may the Avenger of children destroy you and Justice that haunts murderers." he sends curses her way. "What God or divine spirit would listen to you, an oath-breaker and deceiver of guests?" she asks him, haughtily. "Oh, loathsome child murderer..." he says, body slumped.

"Go home and bury your wife." Medea says. "I am going, denied rights to my two children." Jason recites. "Do not mourn yet. Wait for old age." she says to him. "Oh, dearest children..." he says. "To their mother, not to you." she says. "And yet you killed them." he says. "Yes, to wound you." she says. "I long to kiss the sweet lips of my children..." he recites. "Now you speak to them, now you love them. Before, you pushed them aside." Medea says. "In the name of the Gods let me touch the soft skin of my children!" he begs. "That will not happen. Your words are thrown into the empty air." she says, and the plateau she stands on gets dragged off stage.

"Zeus, do you hear how I am driven away and what I suffer from this loathsome child-killer, this lioness?" Jason raises his arms, looking to the ceiling. "This is all that is left to me, all that I can do, to mourn and cry out to the Gods and call the divine spirits to witness how she killed my children and keeps me from touching them with my hands and burying their bodies." he recites, dropping his arms. "I wish I had never fathered them to see them destroyed by you." he says, turning around then exiting the stage. "Of many things Zeus in Olympus is the keeper, many are the things the gods bring about against all reason..." the third girl recites, as she leaves the stage. "And what is looked for does not happen after all, yet a God finds a way for the unexpected." the middle girl recites after, she, too, leaving the stage. Moments pass as the first girl silently folds her hands before her, elegantly. "That is how this story has ended." she says, before she makes her exit off the stage.

The stage goes dark, and deafening applause can be heard.

* * *

_**oOo:oOo:oOo** _

* * *

It was every bit as tragic as Ellen had said. Pretty fucking bloody, too.  _Nice special effects. And the chariot was drawn to look awesome._ As we file out of the gymnasium, I hear Ellen speak. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned..." she says. "...Shakespeare?" I ask out loud. "No, it was from someone else." she says. "Cosgrove, I think." she says. "From  _The Mourning Bride._ " she informs. "Is that another story about murder and vengeance?" I ask. "Sort of. It's complicated." she says. "Let me see if I can remember..." she trails, thoughtfully. "The rebel leader kidnaps the princess, but then they fall in love and get secretly married, but there's a shipwreck and she's washed up alone and then rescued by her father, the King." she starts. "So the King wants to marry her off to his ally, and she doesn't dare tell him she's married to his enemy, and she thinks the rebel fellow is dead, anyway." she explains.  _Ouch._ "Only he's not, because he was washed up somewhere else and rescued by a Queen, who falls in love with him, and the King falls in love with the Queen, but they're enemies..." she continues.  _Ain't that just fucking peachy? I can kinda see where this is going, though._ "So it's basically; everybody loves someone? Who loves someone else. Right?" I ask. "Yeah." Ellen nods. "But here's the tragic part-they all try to murder the people they think have betrayed them, and then they feel guilty and try to change their minds." she continues. "Assassins, huh?" I say. "Yeah. But only it's too late because the plots are already in motion,"  _Makes sense._ "so they end up killed by their own assassins." she finishes. "So the moral is, I guess, revenge is dangerous." she adds. I nod.

"Or else,  _do not change your mind._ " I say. She flashes a smile, before frowning thoughtfully. "Even if a man treated me like Jason did, I would never do what Medea did." she says. I snort. "Of course you wouldn't up and kill your kids." I roll my eyes.  _If you aren't a ravenous bitch who is-fuck's sake. I don't know where the fuck to begin. But...if my husband up and married some fucking bimbo behind my back..._

 _"It's only natural I'd be jealous..."_ I whisper out loud without noticing, and Ellen blinks. "Medea took it way too fucking far, but...I think he'd deserve to suffer. I mean, being married, isn't it basically against the law to commit...?" I trail, trying to think of the word. "Bigamy. But in some far out isolated places it is legal." she informs. "Yeah, but here in America." I say. "I mean, he deserves to be punished in some sort of way, at least." I frown deeply. "I suppose." Ellen says. I smile. "You know..they say,  _don't get mad, get even._ " I say. "Just...not by killing people." I add. I hear some ass nearby snicker in a familiar way, but when I look, I can't tell who the fuck it was because half the audience was still loitering about, chattering about the play. I notice a familiar redhead.  _Oh, that asshole. No wonder why it was familiar._ I curl my lip at him knowingly, and he avoids my gaze guiltily.  _Fucking pretty boy. I hate pretty boys._

"Anyway, thanks for coming with me." I hear Ellen, and I turn back to her. "No problem." I tell her. We head back to the room. Saturday I wake up early and head to the conference room to deliver the mail and allowance. As I'm getting ready to finish up, someone comes in. I turn around to see who it is. "Amira! There you are." Minnie smiles brightly at me. "Here, let me give you a hand with this. We need to get moving." she says, coming in and taking a separate messenger bag, beginning to put everything in it. "Where are we going?" I ask, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. "To the mall, for the fundraiser!" she chirps. I blanch.  _I fucking forgot because of what happened in the last, what? Week or two?_ "You did say you'd cover my shift...remember?" Minnie snaps me out of my internal monologue.  _I fucking forgot that as well!_ "Um. Right." I force the words out. "Um.." I hear myself dumbly say. "When..is that?" I ask, finally.

"Well, because we're only lowly freshmen..." she starts. "We're supposed to do the last shifts." she says. "And all officers will have to help set up first thing in the morning, so we're gonna be there all day." she finishes. "Um, I mean..." she trails, looking away. "You are." she says. "I'm really sorry about this. It's just that..." she tries. "I promised someone and I can't..." she trails. "I'll make it up to you somehow." she says.  _I'm going to be there all fucking day? Just fucking peachy._ "It's fine." I say. "Anyway, let's get the mail out." Minnie says. We both finish delivering the mail, taking our allotted allowances, and then we took the van to the mall.  _With Professor Grabiner._ The other students, and the goods as well, but still.  _With fucking Professor Grabiner. I cried. In fucking front of him. Earlier in the week._ And it didn't help that I had to fucking sit next to him!  _I had no choice but to ride to the mall, next to-oh my fucking God._ I fucking realize that I  _actually have a crush on the asshole._ I was utterly  _mortified_  by the realization the whole fucking ride and then some.  _But at the same time-I sarcastically thought to myself..._

_Way to realize your first fucking crush, me._

When we arrive at the mall, I clear my throat, and  _Minnie's not helping, she's fucking staring at me._ I explain to everyone else how the raffle was supposed to work,  _starting with a fucking stutter, fuck me._ And the idea of discounts for multiple tickets-which, thank God, I didn't stutter during that time. The booth looked festive with all the gift baskets wrapped up nicely-with a few dozen candles on the side for extra sales. I'm free for most of the day, so I decide to just wander around, when I happen upon a very familiar pretty boy. With purple hair.  _Coming out of a fucking van._ And I come to a fucking epiphany-that I told him  _that I'd hang out with him. Fucking today._ I blanch. I hurry towards him,  _literally giving zero fucks that he's surrounded by other pretty boys._ "Uh, Damien?" I arrive, calling out to him. He turns to me, then goes all fucking sparkly again. "Oh, look who's arrived early. Miss me that much?" he gives a wide, happy,  _and somehow fake looking,_ smile. I ignore the gazes of the others, looking only at him.  _What he said pissed me off. Because there's a huge misunderstanding-I can tell by the others' looks._ "Zip it, pretty boy." I snap at him. "I came to tell you I won't be available all day, so our  _friendly hang out_ will be canceled. Unless you wanna buy a raffle, and be  _friendly,_ " I stress 'friendly' two times for the sake of the pretty boys,  _but they don't fucking get it._  His sparkles vanish.  _But even still, the gazes of some of the others turn into something that really pisses me off._ "with your  _friendly_ group of pretty boys, then be my guest." I say, turning my gaze to them with a lip curled in disgust. "By friendly pretty boys, I mean no hormonal pretty boys. I already have enough on my plate with this blue fucking asshole." I point to Damien, and he tenses, fidgets, and looks away.  _In an oddly shy way._ With what looks to be a blush,  _a fucking purple blush._

I immediately turn and leave, making my way down a random aisle, and I notice a 'Coming Soon' sign on a musical instrument store.  _I'll have to check it out when it opens._ The day passes quickly, and I soon grow bored of wandering around the same places. It's fun, but it get's pretty fucking tiring. It gets dark and cold-signaling it's finally my turn to man the booth. When I arrive, a couple candles are lit to make the booth look inviting, half a dozen candles set aside to hopefully sell.  _Then I notice Professor Grabiner behind the fucking booth._ I furrow my brows at him, confused. "Do not worry, Miss Fatima. I am only here to supervise. I am  _not_ a salesman." he tells me. I frown.  _Not that I can imagine him being a good one._ "Take your place. I will be over there if you need me." he points to two armless metal chairs next to each other-in a corner behind the booth.  _One for the salesperson, maybe? But that close is..._ "And only if you have the need. I do not appreciate being interrupted while I am reading." I hear him, and I look back to him, as he's seating himself on the chair closest to the wall.  _Then the asshole proceeds to lift his legs onto the second chair, using it as a fucking ottoman. Peachy._

 _"Supervise, my ass..."_ I whisper under my breath. His sharp gaze meets mine, and I tense. "Excuse me?" he raises a brow, with that condescending smile. "Nothing, sir." I squeak out.  _Just fucking peachy._ His gaze returns to his book. I step behind the booth, looking at the current supplies.  _Nine candles, three of which are lit, and..._ I look and notice a box under the booth.  _A huge amount of raffle tickets. Which means my idea worked. Fuck yes._ I get to work, giving my best smile, advertising the booth. Then a student comes up to the both. I recognize her as Angela. "Oh. The candles." she looks at the lit ones-which are flickering brightly. "Do you want to buy one?" I ask, smiling politely as possible as I could to Ellen's bully earlier in the year. I know we're supposed to be taking money from the non-magical, but I don't think it's against the rules to get money from a bitch.  _Oops, I meant Witch._ She huffs indignantly. "Don't be stupid." she says. "Or can't you help that?" she insults me. I feel my blood boil hotly, and just as I open my mouth, a group comes up. "If you're so lonely as to spend your time down chattering a saleswoman, then go somewhere that has no customers, please. You are in the way." I hear a familiar male voice. I look, and see  _Damien and his groupies._ I blanch.  _I didn't expect him to come here._ She turns to look who it was, and when her eyes meet with his sharp ones, she scoffs, slightly flush, before stomping away.  _He's sparkly again._ I stare at him.

"Hello there." he greets. "You're giving off sparkles again. It's fucking gross. Stop it." I glare at him.  _And he stops, thankfully._ "Sparkly?" he blinks at me, before grinning slyly as his groupies come up and all order raffles after some contemplation. "Oh, there's a discount if you buy multiple tickets." I smile at them, pointedly ignoring Damien. "Oh? Then I'll take..." one of them start up. 

* * *

In the peripheral of my vision, I see the highly recognizable Mister Ramsey heading up to the stall with his entourage. "If you're so lonely as to spend your time down chattering a saleswoman, then go somewhere that has no customers, please. You are in the way." he sends a heated glare towards-I glance momentarily-Miss Kirsch. My gaze back on my book, I hear her scoff before ungracefully stomping away from the booth. I frown.  _Perhaps Mister Ramsey was defending Miss Fatima from an unsavory encounter with Miss Kirsch? I do hope he did not chase a potential customer away._ I vaguely notice Miss Fatima speaking-tuning into my surroundings rather than into my mind. "-sparkles again. It's fucking gross. Stop it." she says to Damien. I furrow my brow at her choice of wording, but I can't help but notice what she said... _sparkles? Mister Ramsey does not give off sparkles._ Some in his entourage purchase tickets. I tune them out again, deciding to ask her later.

* * *

"Thank you!" I smile at them, and one blushes. "No problem." he says. "You guys can go ahead of me. I'll be here for a bit." Damien tells his groupies, and they all shuffle along, then he leans on the booth. "I'm surprised you're this..." he glances to Professor Grabiner. "...perceptive." his eyes linger on him for a moment. "Amira. I wish to speak to you.  _Privately._ About this matter, la-" "Mister Ramsey, I do believe your reasoning with Miss Kirsch is correct. If you do not wish to purchase anything, then please get off the booth and kindly head elsewhere." Professor Grabiner interrupts Damien. "Sorry, sir." Damien apologizes, getting off the booth as told.  _Thank you, Grabby._ "Later, then." Damien winks, before waltzing off. I release a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding in.

More people come by, purchasing up what's left of the candles, save for the lit ones-and buying multiple raffle tickets as well, some getting the baskets leaving less than half of what was left when I started advertising that this was for a school fundraiser. Time passes. And passes.  _And passes._  To the point where there's really no one left. _My feet are fucking hurting._ I regret not asking how long the shift would fucking be, and even then, I don't have a fucking watch. I would ask Professor Grabiner, but I feel my face heat up.  _I have a crush on him. My fucking teacher._ I feel ashamed, fucking mortified-I look down.  _My fucking teacher, of all fucking roles. He's not even that fucking good. Sure he has a mind melting, fucking brainwashing voice, he has mesmerizing garnet eyes. His sarcastic and condescending personality makes him a complete fucking asshole. He left me at that one time, without a fucking word, when I told him his magic was familiar. It really hurt. I don't even remember any acts of real kindness from him to me-he apologized after the fucking letter incident, but that does not count. His looks are all he has going for him. And his ass-_ I'm snapped out of my thoughts with a loud clatter of metal. I fucking squeal like a  _little fucking girl_ from how quickly I was pulled away from  _that_ topic. I feel my face get hotter. "Miss Fatima?" I hear the very man that riddled my thoughts. "Sir?!" I squeak out  _a little too fucking loud._ I don't dare face him. "What time is it?" I hear the frown in his voice. "Um!" I fucking squeak  _again._ "N-No idea, sir!" I stutter. "Miss Fatima?" I hear concern this time.  _I'm sorry._

 _"Are you doing alright?"_ he asks the same way as before.  _I'm sorry._ _I'm sorry._ _I'm sorry._ _I'm sorry._ I feel completely guilty, utterly fucking mortified. And as I open my mouth to say that, I feel my legs buckle under me. Then another clatter could be heard.  _And I feel his arms around me, suddenly._  Supporting me from behind."Idiot girl!" he scolds. "Why did you not tell me when you needed a break for all this time?" he asks. I steady myself, before turning at look at him.  _Crush. Crush on him._

 _"Sir, I-"_ I can barely hear my small voice over his loud sigh on exasperation. "Well, I can't take you back like this. Someone would assume I'd worked you to the bone on purpose." he says. "Come along, then." he beckons, leaving the booth. I comply. After a detour to lock up the remaining supplies and money, he leads me to a building that stood beside the mall.  _Which turned out to be a restaurant._ "Didn't know this was here..." I trail, looking around. "It is hidden from casual viewers." he informs. "Sit." he orders me when we arrive at a table. "Say nothing. I will order." he says. A few moments later, someone  _inhuman_ sets a cup of something hot in front of me. By inhuman, I mean  _those fucking ears. They're long, and they have tiny stems growing off them every which way. And the-is that fucking seaweed?_ Growing from his snow white haired scalp-going down to hot pink long straight hair, half of it laying over his right eye. He had a mole just below the left of his mouth on his chin, and black, round antique looking glasses. Thin lips pulled into a smile, and closed eyes.  _At least 6' tall._  Brownish skin tone.  _And the fucking sparkles. Not as bad as Damien, but he still has fucking sparkles._

The being then walks away. "He is what the Norwegian call a  _Nøkken._ " I hear Professor Grabiner, and I snap my head to him, noticing I was staring at, er... _Professor Grabiner said 'he'. So 'him'._ And  _he_ had fucking  _sparkles._ "Do all the pretty boys have fucking sparkles...?" I hear my thoughts out loud, and I clasp my mouth with my hands.  _Nice going, me._ Professor raises a brow at me. I avoid looking at him, settling for the table instead. "Oh, yes. I have been meaning to ask you about something relevant." he begins. "I had happened to overhear that you see the same thing with Mister Ramsey?" I hear him. I furrow my brows. I nod, hesitantly-dropping my hands. "Except he can, like-I don't know-turn it off at will?" I try. "Oh, really?" I hear him, and I look up to see his confused expression. "Interesting." he says. I hesitate before asking, "You can't see them?"

"The sparkles, I mean." I add. "Not at all." he says. I clasp the cup, staring into it. "And the Nøkken waiter?" he asks. "Um...kind of." I say. "He only had a small amount of sparkles." I say.  _Oolong?_ I bring the cup up and sniff it. "Chai." I drink the sweet and spicy tea that was one of Dad's favorites, and it burns my throat a little bit, going down. "Thanks." I say to him. "It shouldn't have been necessary, if you had any sense." he sighs. "I suppose I should be grateful that you did not faint, on top of locking your knees." he says.  _There goes him being 'nice'._ I blow on my tea.  _Though I won't be telling him I'm thankful he caught me before I fell face first into the fucking countertop._ I sigh, taking a sip. I've never been in a social situation like this.  _Alone._ With Professor Grabiner.  _My crush._ The thought popped into my fucking brain, while I was drinking my tea. I spit it all out, making a bit of a mess while doing so.  _I say 'a bit' because my mouth was still on the fucking cup._ And end it with a coughing fit.  _And for the umpteenth time tonight, my face gets hot._

I hear Professor Grabiner sigh in exasperation, seeing his hands grab a napkin to clean it up. I cover my face, ashamed. Then I feel a tingle in the back of my brain.  _A different kind of tingle. Not like Professor Grabiner or like Professor Potsdam._ I tense. It's coming from... _behind me._ I feel the heat drain from my face. I drop my hands.

 _'What do you want, pinky?'_ I snarl, mentally speaking to the fucking pink beanstalk.

 ** _'Nofhing, merely vondering just vhat in the vorld you could be.'_** his accent sounded heavy.

 _'How so?'_ I ask using my mind's voice, "Miss Fatima? What is with the sudden hostility?" I hear Professor Grabiner. I fake a smile.

 _ **'Your soul iz...an eksepshional existence, my lady.'**_ Pinky number two says.  _Pinky the First is whats-her-name at school-the fairy._ Sultry, husky, in a way that gives me chills.  _And pisses me off._

And the asshole has the gal to walk up in person after saying something so fucking disgusting. "Allow me, sir." the fucking beanstalk says to Professor Grabiner, and begins cleaning the table.  _Full blown sparkles. So many, it's intimidating. Damien could never hold a fucking sparkling candle to this guy._ I feel my breath halt in my throat.  _The thought of the likes of this guy being more powerful than a demon...makes me terrified._ I swallow deeply, looking straight ahead. Professor Grabiner looks-no,  _is completely fucking unaffected._ And the sparkles become more suffocating by the minute. "I-" my voice catches in my throat. "Miss Fatima?" Professor looks concerned.

"I demand a manager." I force myself to say. "Vhy, I am the manager." he presses his thin lips into a tight smile, facing towards me.  _And thankfully, the sparkles let up._ I take a deep breath.

"Harassing customers  _has_ to be against the rules, sir. I would appreciate it if you didn't use excessive amounts of  _whatever the hell you call it_  that's currently sticking to you in hordes, sparkling sickeningly, on  _a little girl._ " I show hostility.  _Nobody says anything. For what feels to be the longest time._ Professor Grabiner glances between us, a frown on his lips, and a raised brow.  _I feel the beanstalk's magic worm it's way into the back of my head._ I immediately push him away.  _And he looks more amused now._ "Forgive me, my lady, but you are truly an eksepshional existence." he says, amused, before taking the dirty cloth, then walking away.  _And his sparkles still fucking permeate the fucking air._ But I feel him, looking at me, and I'm still scared. "Procul..." I strangle out, and Professor Grabiner looks at me curiously. "...narro." I manage.

**_The voice heard between few minds, speak it._ **

_I wasn't afraid of the sparkles, what I was more afraid of, was-_

* * *

"Sir Nøkken, I do believe that in this part of the world, it's illegal to entice an unwilling soul into giving you  _feed_." I give the magical being a warning, noticing his glowing amber hues-inhumanly taking up both sockets-on Miss Fatima's stiff person, as she casts Farspeak to relay something to me.  _"For you to legally work here, you must know the laws. Need I remind you the penalty?"_ I ask icily, mentally pushing her away to take care of the matter. "No, sir. My deepest apologies." he bows from his place behind the counter before going to the back. I frown, staring the the doorway he had used, before sighing deeply. 

* * *

Professor Grabiner's eyes linger somewhere behind me, and I feel my tension melt away, because the sparkles are finally dispersing, and I don't feel the beanstalk staring at me, anymore. I hear him sigh in exasperation. As I'm about to say  _I'm sorry,_ and _'Should we leave?',_ a plate of bright red berries pop into existence before me. I stare at it, realizing that I've never really been  _alone_ in this type of situation with Grabby.  _So I really don't know how to do this..Um._ I open my mouth, to ask about his homeland, but then I close it with a fidget.  _Knowing him, he wouldn't appreciate the curiosity._ Then I remember, the book he was so fucking engrossed with.  _He probably wouldn't mind that._ "What were you reading?" I eye the book that was set to the side on the table,  _and I swear I saw it before. Where?_ I furrow my brows. "Nothing that would interest you." he snips. I roll my eyes. "No kidding." I say, and  _I remember now. I looked at it out of curiosity five years ago, because my Dad was so happy that he finally got it after searching a long ass fucking time._ "Something about examining some sort of abnormality in a rock type, right? What was it called again?" I hum thoughtfully, trying to remember the name of the book.  _"Some anomalies in interpretations of fragmentary great-app-"_ "-endage arthropod fossils from lower Cambrian shales?" I say, Professor Grabiner stopping halfway, both brows raised at me. "What?" I ask. "Most interesting. You've read it before? I'm surprised." he smirks, amused.

I shrug. "Only up until the halfway point. Wasn't very interesting, and to this day, I still can't understand what's so  _interesting_ about it in the first place." I say.  _Dad read the whole damn thing and was pretty proud about it._  "Besides, there's something better." I say. "Like..?" he trails. "I could go on and on about it until midnight. But I'll save you the suffering, and have one of these..." I take a berry, curiously-holding back the desire to talk about my weird obsession;  _the_ _Mafia._  He hums. "Dessert?" I think out loud, observing it.  _Looks like a strawberry shaped hard candy._  I pop it into my mouth. _Vaguely sweet._ "They're complimentary." he says.  _The sugar melts, turning into..._ "The staff would be displeased if one were to reject their hospitality." he informs.  _Fucking sour._ I choke a bit,  _then it turns into spicy._ I swallow after savoring.

Professor Grabiner's face doesn't change at all as he eats it. After we finish, he picks up his book. "We should go." he leaves money on the counter. "Yes, sir." I respond, getting up to follow him. "Thank you." I say to him, as we walk out. Soon, we're back to Iris Academy. And I'm back in my bed, mulling over the day.

_And upon remembering my realization about Professor Grabiner, everything goes black afterwards._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTICE: I may or may not be giving into my temptation of going onto hiatus and reading Spiral Bound. Because I have this gut feeling it's gonna be badass. And it's gonna take awhile for me to get it off my brain so I don't unintentionally use it all up in this story like a reject. And it'd cheer me up from losing all of my work.
> 
> Translation in order: 
> 
> First: Silence. Allow her sight.
> 
> Second: If you can see me as a physical being,
> 
> Third: Then you are more than capable.
> 
> Fourth: Become the seventh. The last. The final. Support this one. Destroy this one.


	15. A Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt: An old man with a sad smile**
> 
> This small journey made marks the beginning of a tale spun by Prophecy. 
> 
> It begins with the Child of the Prophet, thought missing from eir rightful throne within the Prophet's Courts-now ruled by a proxy heiress-Supreme Green Mage Petunia Potsdam of the Magician's Courts-securely given the rank of Supreme Judge-being the oldest, and most wise within the Courts.
> 
> Petunia was given this child to rear, this child identified as Amira Fatima.
> 
> Though few other incidents had happened, Petunia had managed to save this child from being 'spirited away'.
> 
> But what happens when a being, not Sentient-a being older than time itself comes to this child personally?
> 
> Of course, though, she is merely a grain of sand in power-Petunia strives to protect this child. 
> 
> After an urgent summons of the Supreme White Mage of the Prophet's Courts, the only man alive who may be strong enough to withstand the Voice of this being...
> 
> ...At its command, time itself, for Iris Academy simply halts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot going on, but first is an explanation. I'd really appreciate it if you read this. I know, it's annoying and/or you want to get on to the fucking chapter. 
> 
> The moment I looked at the guide, I noticed shit had to go down, so...no Spiral Bound yet. I have mixed feelings about this. Also took a billion freaking years to think up what happens during the first part of Thanksgiving Break. Anyways, there's a surprise special character that is going to be actually introduced in this chapter and implemented throughout the story. 
> 
> Okay. Now for doing the confusing process. I'll do this in order. The lines separate the characters. From the beginning to the end, it's read in the POVs of Amira, Damien, Petunia, Amira, Petunia, Amira, Petunia.
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, and Charlotte Balm, however, belong to me.

I'm on my bed on a Sunday, and I suddenly hear loud, fervent banging on the fucking door. I open it to find an  _extremely distressed_ Minnie. "I'm-so-sorry!" she bunched her words together. "Wha-?" I furrow my brows and she shoves an envelope to me, in tears. "I'm-so-sorry!" she repeats. I blink. "Wha-" "I completely overlooked it! The letter from your dad! I'm sorry!" she interrupts me, now sobbing. I take it and look at it, seeing that it is indeed from my dad.  _He's finally sent a letter._ I smile at her. "It's fine." I tell her. "...Really?" she squeaks out, her voice hoarse. "I got it now, so it's fine." I assure. "Really." I add. Her eyes brighten. "Oh, Amira! Thank you! I'll make it up to you somehow! I promise!" she says, before hugging me and hurrying away. I laugh.

 _Surely it's something good._ I open the letter, to see only one fucking line. Two fucking sentences.

_"I won't be home for this Thanksgiving."_

My vision blurs. My heart drops.  _My blood runs freezing fucking cold._ A tear drops onto the paper.

_"But your mother would appreciate your company, I'm sure."_

I choke at the way he fucking familiarized the- _the-_

"Amira?" I hear a familiar voice-red seeping into my vision.  _Dad replaced mom._ Everything became vague.  _Purple._ Everything became a tunnel.  ** _Destroy._**

* * *

I head down Horse Hall for another attempt on the Freshmen's own Princess.  _Which would likely fail, since she seems to have something against me._ I smile, as I see a puffy-eyed Minnie hurry by me.  _I wonder if I can get her angry-if she can see my pheromones at will, then she must have a wonderful power in store._ I eventually come up to her trembling form.  _She's looking down at a letter._ "Amira?" I call, and her head raises towards me, her left eye begins to glow, a  _Supreme Mage Pentagram_ forming slowly, her magic crisp and sudden-hovering over her eye. I ready myself for such a powerful circle's magic, the word used by its chant quickly forming,  _ **Diruo,**_ meaning  _ **'to demolish'-**_ inciting my fast reaction. I grab her free arm,  _I'll feel her wonderful punch in a bit,_ chanting a complex teleportation spell quickly _-somewhere desolate, with no bound being for miles-_ before she pulverizes Iris Academy and it's tenants, ending with her execution order.

The moment we arrive, her pentagram finishes, she gives a swing for my jaw.  _The pain..._

 _A_ _s I had thought, absolutely wonderful. No-more than that-_

The impact of my body onto a large sand dune creates an explosion of huge proportions, created by the momentum of her power.  _Absolutely exquisite._ I feel myself coming in and out of consciousness, barely managing to cast a simple diagnosis spell on myself.

 _"You have my thanks, darling demon."_ I hear a foreign voice ring, and as I open my eyes, I find myself blissfully aware  _that her power had managed to cripple my body._ I cannot contain the ripples of laughter I wheeze out, closing my eyes again.

"A masochist?" it says, this time, closer-my laughter dies down, my lung punctured by a rib from the impact. But I wasn't worried.  _Her fist did not even meet me._  "No. Worse." I hear disgust- _her power, the sheer force of her magic.._  "A _piglet_ which craves the most  _exotic_  of pain, the most  _eccentric_  of humiliation. A true glutton for punishment." it's sultry voice continues, and I give a grin through my broken, dislocated jaw.  _Yes._ "The perfect trait for the perfect  _meat shield._ " it says.  _Yes. I live for pain._ "If my Baby were to break laws, at her current power, not even her mother could stop her death." it says. I pause at that- _Her death?-_ and in the blink of an eye, I feel it.  _Her hand grasping my hair, holding me in midair._ I gasp sharply for air, adrenaline wearing off- _I love it when that happens-_ one of my eyes cracked open.

 _And this time, a different pentagram forms in her left eye-a familiar one-used in the black_   _markets._ I feel myself become unfocused.  _But I must engrave this moment into my memory._

"You, Baby, and I..." she gives a wide, stunningly wicked grin.  _A glorious word contained within. **Famulatus.**_ "...will be the perfect  _Familia._ " And thankfully, I don't miss the chant's word... _ **Slavery.**_

She suddenly drops me. Everything blurs- _mana exhaustion,_ I realize-before fading into darkness.

 ** _"Dere. I expectcha tuh infawhm de Supreme Judge of huh existence, and yer newfuhnd servuhtude, piglet."_** I hear it's _-her-_ true voice mauling the back of my head.  _ **"You'd do well tuh getcher own ass back."**_ the voice says, her tone seductive-her accent heavy.

 _After a while, floating in the darkness of recovery, I begin to wonder who this eccentric being was._   _It was not Amira-the Princess that I knew._

_**"Baby's sentient-Charlotte Balm. Call me Charlie, darlin'."** _

It- _she actually replied._ After awhile, I realize it had been so long since my body had received such intoxicating damage... _I'd almost forgotten how boring the afterwards was._ But this, unlike so many other times before...

**"Famulatus."**

_...will prove to be well worth it._

* * *

Early in the day, my Tower informed me of two strong ripples of power, and then a sudden vibration.  _Horse Hall. Two students. Amira Fatima. Damien Ramsey._ I had felt my heart drop at the relay... _both_   _gone._ All so suddenly. I had quickly scoured this world's ancient runes through a scrying mirror, and in the Saharan Desert, I found two magics. They were safe.  _However, before I could breathe a sigh of relief...the mirror had shattered._ I had lost them, again.  _Due to powerful intervention._ Who did this? What did they want with my children? I paced. And I remember, no other magic was there.  _A sentient?_ No.  _Such a being is adverse towards one who devours magics._ Damien was there. I know every child's signal...but the other one...was similar to what has possessed one of my students, Amira Fatima, once before-an argument in the gymnasium during an annual club activity...with Jacob Blaising.

I resolve myself.  _Do not panic, Petunia. This may be the first Prophet Candidate you've ever taken under your wing, but it is unlike you to allow another to wrest your students._ I tuned into my Tower's protective pulses, pinpointing Hieronymous' location.  _He was still on campus._ I must return the children safely.

"Hieronymous."

_"Petunia?"_

"There have been two vanishings." I say. He takes a moment to answer.  _"You are sure?"_ "Yes."  _"Which two?"_ He asks. "Damien Ramsey, and-" I begin; interrupted by an intrusive vibration rushed through me meaningfully by my Tower. It's location... _behind me._

* * *

I suddenly find myself in Professor Potsdam's room. "Huh?" I hear myself, in confusion, and suddenly the fucking room starts to fucking whirl around me. As soon as I realize,  _I can't move,_ everything goes dark. 

* * *

"Amira!" I exclaim, rushing towards her to capture her falling form.

 _"Petunia?!"_ I hear Hieronymous on the other end of the intercommunication spell, reminding me the spell's link hadn't been severed.  _But there was something I need to check. She wasn't breathing._  I hold her limp form near, listening closely.  _"Petunia!"_ "Silence!" I snap at him, worried for my students' safety. He obeyed.  _It was there. Barely, but she was breathing._ I sigh in relief, lifting her up and carrying her to my bed. "It is an emergency. I need you to contact the  ** _Harenae Vulgares_**." I tell him, casting a physical diagnostic spell on Amira.  _"The Sand Folk?"_ I vaguely hear him ask in displeasure, concentrating more on the task at hand.  _No physical abnormalities._ I cast a psychological diagnosis spell.  _"Why them?"_ "I know you have had run-ins with them in the past, but this is an  _emergency,_ " I hiss at him, finding  _traces of a sentient possession_ on my student. "Hieronymous. They owe me. It is time they return the debt." I force out, casting a spiritual diagnosis spell. "They will find a Cambion boy by the name of Damien Ramsey, and evacuate his person the nearest Court, giving him care if needed. They are also to  _report_ his status to me. Do it now. Enough chatter. I will tend Amira." I give my order.  _"Received."_ he voices in discomfort, his acknowledgment of his superior's orders, clear. I then release the link between us.

 _Severe mana-depletion._ She was getting paler.  _I must give her my mana._  She would not survive without aid. 

* * *

A low hum.  _A constant thrumming._ An annoying fucking vibration.

I groan lowly, annoyed at the constant sound coming from  _somewhere,_ I have no fucking clue where-and when I try to move, all I can feel is  _nothing._ I was numb.  _Fuck this._ I notice, that I'm not in the fucking academy anymore. I open my eyes, hyperventilating,  _absolutely fucking terrified,_ and unable to even fucking move. My eyes dart around the room,  _I try to move,_ and I see that I'm in a gold canopy bed,  _a gaudy chandelier high above,_ _attached to a gold dome ceiling,_ which had  _dozens of perfectly preserved picturesque images of otherworldly places_ through the sheer gold linens over the roof of the canopy bed.  _I was alone._ It was dark, but not so much to the point of where I can't see squat.

_I was alone. I wasn't in my fucking room. I wasn't-_

Then I remember.  _After reading Dad's letter..._ I got so,  _so fucking angry._ All I remember is red, and... _purple...?_

Then, suddenly, I was in Professor Potsdam's room.  _Out of fucking nowhere._ And then everything was black. She looked worried.  _Like, really worried._

And again, I hear a low hum. I feel a vibration of magic. I look to where it came from,  _I can finally fucking move,_ my eyes meeting with a fucking bookcase door that was cracked open to reveal a marbled moonlit circular room. I reach out, pushing aside the linens, my eyes glued to that spot-gently getting off the bed as not to kick up any fucking dust.  _The magic thrums through the air, beckoning me._ I get up, my bare feet meeting with a luxurious, soft, ancient area rug. I walk to the oddly hypnotizing sound, my feet eventually meeting with cold wooden flooring,  _but I couldn't bring myself to give a fuck._

I reach out to the cracked open bookcase door, running my hand along some of it's old, dusty _-and oddly perfectly preserved-_ contents. Then I see something shine from within, and I heave the hardwood door open with both hands-seeing a fairly large  _half_ of a gear.  _Gear._ I widen my eyes- _a fucking gear-_ as I come to a realization that this gear...

_I pad into the marbled room, my bare feet meeting the freezing cold stone flooring, and I wince. But I continue up to it. Because..._

...it was familiar.  _Looks like a piece of the old broken gear that Professor Grabiner gave to me, and I went onto some sort of fucking high trip because of the fucking thing._

I find myself closer to it-utterly transfixed.

**_Mademoiselle._ **

I hear- _no, feel something._ The gear glistens magically, and before it, an apparition of an old man appears.  _My heart stops._

But not in fear.  _But because even though this man was smiling...he radiated pure sadness._

_**Je ne voulais pas...** _

He tried to convey something. Not through words... _but through magic._

 _**te** _ _**blesser...** _

_And the worst part...I couldn't understand a single fucking thing he said._ I become frustrated at my inability to help him.  _He fades away, but I could still feel him._ I could still feel his sadness.  _Desperation._ I could  _feel_ it-his plead to be heard.  _And that pulled on me._ I reach for the piece of a gear. I gently grab it. I didn't know what to do. How to help. But something wanted to come out. Words. That I couldn't understand. Words...that I could only  _feel._ It was overwhelming.

_**...** _

_"I..don't know what you said..."_

**_..._ **

_"I'm sorry, but I couldn't understand you."_

**_..._ **

_"I may not hear you, but I can feel you."_

**_..._ **

_"You regret something. You want to convey something. You're sad."_

The overwhelming feeling eased.  _"I-"_  My voice catches. "I don't know what you want. Whatever, or whoever you seek. I'm only human-I know, it's a pathetic excuse, but...I need you to show me." I say to the gear, where his presence was coming from. "I...need you to show me. I'll try to take you there." I say, and the presence inside the gear begins to flicker. "I'll take you there!" I exclaim, becoming scared for it as it begins to fade completely. "And if I can't, I know someone who can!" I try,  _Professor Potsdam,_ as it vanishes. "Please. I need you to show me." I whisper to it.

 _Nothing._ He wasn't there anymore. I feel tears begin to swell.

 _"Please?"_ I beg softly, gently gripping it.  _It was gone._ I release a sob.  _He was gone._

_I couldn't fucking help him..._

As I cry, holding it close, feeling utterly  _useless,_ I feel a wave of  _tender_ magic behind me. It was much like my own, but it was something else-completely... _someone else._ I turn around to see  _a blurry fucking wisp of silver fucking hair._ Like mine. I feel a tear cascade down, as I become  _numb_ upon realizing who this magic belonged to.

_Momma._

I tried to call out to her, but my fucking voice wouldn't fucking  _work._ My thumb slips, and I remember the gear. I look down at it for a moment.

 _"I'm sorry."_ I say, sadly.  _I couldn't even comfort you..._

I gently place the gear on its stand, and I give it a quick prayer.

_May you find peace, Mister._

I turn around to follow Mom, leaving the gear behind. 

* * *

As I'm getting the recipe for a mana transfer around, I feel a powerful, reverberating  _shatter_ in my Tower's barrier, an invasive presence following soon after. I turn around to its source, readying my wand. The first thing that came to mind was to  _protect Amira._ Because whatever came in had wanted her.

_A tainted presence, wisps of silver. An ink black mass of nothingness._

_**"You."**_ I address the being- _a powerful sentient-_ with authority, my Tower's magic surrounding em.  _"Away from this child. Do not **dare** harm her!" _I draw out a powerful banishment spell, and I'm thrown back, crashing into my dresser with brute force. I then realize,  _the moment a face forms,_ that this was no ordinary sentient.  _It was a Prophet's remnant._ I hurriedly point my wand towards my writing table, sending a magic missive to the only living person who can negotiate with such a powerful being- _the Supreme White Mage of the Prophet's Courts..._

 ** _"Tempus."_** e begins a Latin chant.  _Time._

_"Iris Academy has been invaded. Student to be spirited away."_

**_"Audi..."_** e croaks.  _Hear..._

 _"Urgent summons to the Supreme White Mage for negotiations."_ With the tip of my wand, I fold it...

_Please...get here in time._

...and toss it through a warp.

 _ **"..mihi."**_ e finishes.  _...me._

_Aloysius._

_**Everything halts.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damien is a demon, so he naturally has high endurance against physical and magical attacks-even more so due to the fact that he is a suicidal masochist. If it were not the Damien in my story-even a, by the social standard; 'normal' demon-they would be practically nearly dead, and any other race they would die immediately from impact, becoming something completely unrecognizable. :D But this blue thing, he enjoys being beaten to a pulp, so no worries. :)
> 
> In this chappie, Amira uses a 'Forbidden Art' type of magic which can even resuscitate someone at death's door and is powerful enough to wipe a small city off the map. A one-word chant recited by a Supreme Mage circle requires a lot of magic, and as such, it is excruciatingly rare-especially in the 'world' Amira is currently in. In the Otherworld-seeing as it consists of magical beings-it's much less rare, but it's still forbidden to use.
> 
> Translation from French:
> 
> Miss.
> 
> I've never meant...
> 
> to hurt you...
> 
> **P.S. I'm sorry this chappie is so short. But the story must take a turn, and it starts with this. :)**


	16. The White Mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The core of England-its Capital, London; below the underbelly of Buckingham Palace, where the Queen, Her Majesty Elizabeth the Second resides-a gateway to one of many Towers belonging to esteemed Witches who swore an oath of servitude for long as their bloodline shall run upon it's very founding.
> 
> One belonged to the wife of Wizard; Viscount Aloysius Montague-Grabiner the 16th, Proxy Head of the House of Montague, the Supreme White Mage of the Prophet's Courts.
> 
> A man of ancient vampiric lineage-though his mother was the last to be graced by the Blood of the vampiric lineage, her children nothing more than purely human. Aloysius is an oddity among his human siblings; his ability to not only see and hear those which remain hidden-but his ability to withstand their true Voice, untainted by what is known as 'sound'. As his descent commands; he is a pool of mana which allows him quicker recovery when he uses his own Voice to communicate with magical beings, as well as withstand-for every magic has its price.
> 
> Through years as a White Mage, he had built up his resistance to such powerful magic.
> 
> But never in his 45 years...had he come across a Prophet's Remnant, who has made the Tower of the Iris eirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet the special surprise character! :D Aloysius! :D Yay!
> 
> P.S. Sorry. Had to make-do with a shorter summary. :(
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

_Vampire. One of the firstborn species from the ripples of creation._ One of the billions which have failed to meet Perfection in the eyes of the Oracle.  _Prideful in their Blood, in the magic which had flowed in their very veins._ Their lost, Forbidden Art.

 _I am one of the hundreds of thousands which could be traced to their ancient descent._ However, the Blood had failed me. My Mother was the last true Vampire, graced by the Blood.  _But this does not mean I haven't inherited their call._ The Blood may have died with my Mother...but their Voice still continues on-inside of me. My siblings were forsaken. My little brother was deaf-he had broken under the pressure of a magical household and soon passed. My little sister had found a suitable house to give her a daughter.  _And myself, the oldest-being of the lesser sex-_ I was groomed to be a  _groom._ I was also the weakest child.  _The Blood's final gift...had become a curse._

 _Harpy._ _One of the few species who's Voice can be poured into sound._ A Forbidden Art; which they had used to beckon weary wildseed male travelers they deemed worthy of giving them, daughters.  _Back in the olden days, they would use the poor sods until they no longer drew breath._

There was a unique one among the courts-she was a Supreme Mage. She had wanted a son-not a daughter.  _I had caught her eye._ I could not only withstand, but  _feel_ her Voice. I could communicate with her-in ways only a painfully select few could even begin to comprehend. I gently run my fingers along her portrait.  _She had made me her husband._ She had given me a son.  _Then she had vanished without a trace._ She had left behind a sealed box, only which her son-or the woman who claims his hand-could open.

 _She had left behind a position for me in the Prophet's Courts._ The delicate seat of the Supreme White Mage, the second _-and last-_ who may ever feel the One True Voice.

 _I am_ _Viscount Aloysius Montague-Grabiner the 16th. With the absence of my wife; I am the_ _Proxy Head of the House of Montague. I have the mana capacity to feel the Voices of the purest of magical beings-to communicate with them; I am_ _the Supreme White Mage of the Prophet's Courts._

* * *

 _"Mom?"_ I whisper, peeking out into the golden-dome room to see that the candelabra were now lit up.  _And the giant gaudy fucking chandelier, too,_ I notice when I look up. I step into the room, seeing what looked to be an ordinary wooden door beyond the foot of the canopy bed.  _That I didn't fucking see before._ I swear it wasn't even fucking  _there before._ And the damn thing was fucking  _cracked open,_ too.

_**...Da...ter...** _

_I jump back at the powerful, staticky, beckoning wave of fucking something, but I have no fucking idea what._

Hyperventilating at the sudden fucking rush, I try to fucking  _understand._ Whatever  _this thing was,_ it was super fucking powerful, but  _it was barely fucking there._ I try to get a grip- _like...it was disappearing._

**_...Daugh...ter..._ **

_I feel it come to me, softly, this time-soothingly. Calming my leaping heart down. Like..._

"Mom..?" I call, cautiously.

_And silence replies._

"Momma?" I call out again, padding over to the door to look through the crack to find a dead-end hallway, passing a long mirror.  _Nobody was there._ I open it,  _what the fuck,_ to find a huge-ass painting of...

_...me?_

* * *

_"Urgent summons!"_ I hear shouting outside my foyer, snapping me out of my reminiscing.  _"Urgent summons to the Supreme White Mage!"_ a young magician bursts in, out of breath.  _"Summons...Supreme...White Mage..."_ he gasps.  _"Breathe, young man."_ I urge cooly. He gathers himself. "Summons..." he gulps, "An urgent summons from Mistress Petunia-" he continues, "Where?" I jump to the point, and he gawks.  _"Now, boy."_ I command, turning fully to him. "The Tower of the Iris, sir!" he relays.  _At this, I feel my blood run cold, my knees nearly giving beneath me._ I lean on my cane for support. "The missive's contents?" I force out, as he reaches to catch me should I have fallen.  _Iris Academy._ "For...negotiations, sir. It was written with haste and sent through Warp, so-"  _"A hostage situation?"_ "We assume, sir." the boy confirms. I raise myself from my support.

"The blue magicians?" I begin my lame stride to the door. "A route has been secured, sir." he affirms. "My aid?" "Yes, the White Mages are ready to support you if needed." he says, as I draw out a pentagram of access.  _Of course, they will be needed._ I frown to myself, opening my door to meet the teleportation room.  _"Viscount."_ they chime. "Brief me." I command, stepping into the circle, followed by my entourage.

 _"The missive is hastily written, sent via Warp. We assume a Hostage situation has occurred, the suspect is likely an AWAL demon-"_ "No. Petunia is powerful enough to banish twenty at once." I cut through them, as the Blue magic encircles us. "It is either an army, which I sincerely doubt, a possible sentient, or..." I trail, coming to an epiphany as we appear before the Tower of the Iris,  _and my aid gasp at the sight._

 _"A Prophet's Remnant."_ I breathe in awe at the ethereal site before me.  _For Time will only bow to the Oracle._

* * *

I walk down the hall, taking in the huge, breathtaking full-body painting.  _This wasn't me. This..._

I halt, looking up at the sheet white woman dressed in gold, with a large, white and gold embroidered, fluffy fucking  _cloak_ which looked like it was fitted for fucking  _royalty._ She had big, silver hair tied up in a sophisticated hairstyle with a small, gold hat attached. In the painting, she stood before an arched window taking up the whole wall, but upon closer inspection, it had a knob like a door. I look down,  _it didn't have the artist's signature._ But it had a gold plaque that had something Latin on it.

**_Et Portam Auream._ **

And below  _that_ was a fitted  _empty_ socket.  _That looked like the fucking shape of a fucking gear._ As if the damn thing was a fucking keyhole. I bend with the intention to look inside, but something  _fucking slithers out._ I back up grossed out by the black thing,  _and more fucking come out. And fucking lunge at me._ I leap backward, falling on my fucking ass, terrified of the fucking things. I scoot backward as the inky tendrils slink midair towards me, and I hurry to turn around, get the fuck up,  _and fucking run for my life._

_The hall elongates hauntingly, darkening. I feel my heart and my stomach fucking drop as I see the door get farther and farther away. I push myself forward, and I can see ink black fucking tendrils come out of the fucking walls from behind me._

_"No!"_ I scream, terrified as whatever the fuck this was, was coming after me with killing intent. _"Stay away!"_ I yell at it, and I can fucking feel it  _hiss in pure fucking hatred._ I trip over myself as I try to run faster,  _to no fucking avail._

* * *

 _Time had halted for the Tower of the Iris._ This was no demonic army intent on devouring magic.  _Nor was this a sentient._ This was something much more powerful.

**_..._ **

_"A child of the Blood."_ A staggering Voice surged through me, I habitually translate it to sound-the rest of me completely numb.  _This is the remnant-_ my entourage cripple over at the pressure _-of the long-lost Prophet._

**_..._ **

_"No."_ I translate, feeling feather light.

**_..._ **

_"A descendant. The Blood is gone. Only the Voice remains."_ Within the timeless bounds of the Tower of the Iris, a mass of ink black darkness forms.

_**...** _

_"This alone is enough."_ I struggle to breathe, my senses fading. _A tainted remnant of what once was._

**_..._ **

_"The flower, not yet a fruit, is in danger."_ Wisps of silver.  _There, but not._

**_..._ **

_"You receive eir gratitude from time trivial."_ Everything...turning into  _nothing._

**_..._ **

_"As eir predecessor...we command thee."_ Everything starts to go black.  _I can't even fight it._

**_..._ **

_"Once more, save the fruit named as Princess."_

* * *

_Why?_

_Why was it chasing me?_

_Why did it want me dead?_

I could  _see_ the fucking door but it kept  _fucking going farther and fucking farther._ My vision became blurry.

_Mom._

I sob, trying to run, everything blurring.

_Someone._

I could feel my legs start to burn.  _I could feel a cold, hateful emptiness behind me._

 _"Help me..."_ I close my eyes,  _feeling it on top of me,_ as I slam into something, then  _someone._

* * *

_Unseeing._

Adrift.

_Unsteady, but completely even._

Everything...was slowly returning.

_Who am I?_

**_"Aloysius."_ **

Ah, yes...this... _this always happens._

 _It's been six years since my_ _psyche has become so damaged due to such force from a Voice._

Though, this time...it wasn't insurmountable power alone-there was also  _corruption_ in it's truest form within.

_'Once more...'_

I open my eyes, my feet and cane meeting with a ground that was this time;  _more there._

 _'..._ _save the fruit named as Princess.'_

_I remember. I was tasked to rescue someone; precious to the Prophet even in eir most tainted form._

The haze subsides, revealing a door in front of me.

**_..._ **

_Suddenly, from within, I could feel a heartwrenching Voice, hysterical-absolutely terrified, eir wails for aid unheard. Beyond this, something_ _voracious-with something very, very far away begging for this evil to stop._

An argument.

_'...save...Princess...'_

_Then I realize, the Prophet was unable._ Whatever this was, was insatiable. I grip my cane, I steady myself.  _I summon the Voice of the Blood, and it's power of command._

 _**You will cease your** _ **_voracity._ **

_It's been more than 10 years since I've needed to use my Voice..._

**_You shall halt._ **

**_..._ **

_I felt my ward's Voice, e was giving up. The Prophet's fading Voice aiding me._

**_You will withdraw!_ **

I command.  _You must hurry, Aloysius. Whatever this_   _is_ -I feel it try to wriggle itself free of my command- _will not give up easily._

**_The door between us and our worlds, shall open!_ **

The door swings open, eir form meeting the door, then mine-with a slam and a thud.  _A familiar head of stunning silver, wavy hair, curling around eir form-seemingly protectively._

 _'_ _You receive eir gratitude from time trivial.'_

_Ah, this..._

Eir young, small, feminine frame collapses, and I capture em with my free arm-coming unto an epiphany as to what the Prophet had meant.

_...is Amira Fatima._

_"Little girl..."_ I call.  _"It is alright now."_ I tell em, similar to when I'd given em _-her-_ the Choice, tears welling from her closed eyes as I soothe her.  _"That being will not harm you anymore."_ I promise this child, out of habit from my years as a father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading this, if you have any questions, feel free to ask and I'll let you know when it's available in the materials, or if it will be explained in a later chappie('later' within reason ofc, like maybe two, three, maybe five chappies) or I might just spoil you outright lol
> 
> Translation from Latin:
> 
> The Golden Gatekeeper.


	17. The Saviour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things must be explained. In the best way, they can be.  
> *Confusion.*  
> Everything starts with one thing.  
> *Heartache.*  
> All we know, the reality of it; we tend to deny.  
> *Anxiety.*  
> We make up our own realities and in the end...  
> *Betrayal.*  
> ...once everything is brought under the spotlight, everything we endured-all those reasons...just fall apart before our very eyes.  
> "Why did I try so hard...?"  
> Because, Amira, you thought it meant something.  
> "It had to mean something. But..."  
> And though he may not be your ideal knight, "It still does, my Princess." he says-his words of comfort unheard.  
> Who you are, Amira...does mean something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. This is where the ratings change, because this gets kinda hardcore. :| 
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

_"Little girl..." Something familiar. "It is alright now." Like that memory._ But this time, it's different.  _It's that same exact voice from that time. "That being will not harm you anymore." It's that familiar hand, those familiar rings._ The one who saved me before. He came to save me  _again._ His soothing touch, kind of like Dad's...but this one had  _magic_ behind it. My tears stopped.

_Who are you?_

_I want to ask, so fucking bad._ But then, when I could-he'd fucking disappear.  _I just know it._ And so, before that hand could leave-it took everything I fucking had to  _reach out_ and stop him.  _Because I wanted to know._

_"...ra?"_

_Because I wanted to thank him. For saving me. Not once..._

_"Amira?"_

_...but twice._

"Amira?" I open my eyes to see Professor Potsdam hovering over me and... _"Professor Grabiner...?"_ I say stupidly the moment I realize, this man was  _much more flashier_ than Professor Grabiner would  _ever_ be.  _And I was holding onto his white and dark brown floral gaudy vest for dear fucking life._ I shyly let go.  _"Sorry..."_ I croak out meekly with a hoarse voice. He gives a warm smile.

"Amira, dearest...do you remember anything? How are you feeling? Are you weak?" Professor Potsdam grabs my chin, turning it either side, fussing over me. She begins chanting spells with her wand, her magic prickling all over my body. "I'm okay, I'm-" I cut off as I grab her arm to push her away.  _Mom._ She was there.

"Mom was there." I say, remembering everything, sitting myself up. "In that-" I try to find the right wording. "In that place. What happened? There was this room in gold and, there was a piece of a gear. It had someone in it. Then they disappeared..." I trail. "After that, I could feel Mom." I continue,  _her magic._ "I could  _feel_ Mom but she  _wasn't there._ " I say, frustrated. Professor Potsdam gave me a puzzled look. "But then," I pipe out, "there was a HUGE painting." I spread my arms. "Of Mom and..." I trail. "A door...?" I rest my hands and look away from Professor Potsdam.  _He was exiting the room._

"Wait!" I exclaim without thinking. He pauses and turns, his brow raised.  _He's the one that saved me. His magic...is exactly like that one time. His voice is also the exact same._ He saved me.  _Two fucking times._ This time he saved me from  _whatever those fucking things were. I wanted to know his name._ _I wanted to tell him how he saved my life back then._

 _"Those things."_ I try.  _I wanted to thank him. For that time...and this one._ "Yes?" he urges coolly.  _"That-"_ my voice catches. "Those inky things." I try again, looking down. "You're the one who called those things back, right?" I ask, glancing up. "Oh?" I heard his amusement come through. "You could feel my Voice?"  _"Aloysius."_ Professor Potsdam hisses at him. "Come now, old friend. If she is indeed an Oracle candidate, then she cannot go without knowing. You and I both know this." he placates. Professor Potsdam gives him a heated glare. "She is not ready. She had said, herself-"  _"Tell me."_ I interrupt Professor Potsdam. She looks at me with a confused frown. I look between them, really confused.  _An Oracle candidate?_ What the hell was that supposed to mean?  _And what's with this 'She's not ready' bullshit?_

 _"Ready for what?"_ I ask, kind of upset. "You never told her." he states, with a firm frown,  _much like Professor Grabiner's._ But I don't give a fuck about that right now. "Told me what?" I raise my voice, interrupting what Professor Potsdam was going to say, now  _really_ fucking confused.  _And angry._ Because it sounded like she was fucking  _hiding_ something from me. "Amira, dear." she tries to defuse the situation.  _Oh hell no._

 _"If it's about me, I need to know."_ I stress. "It's my right to know." I tell them. She remains silent, the look on her face hesitant. "Please. I'll listen." I say. She sighs. "To everything." I add, resolutely. She shakes her head. "Amira, darling..."  _"From the top."_ I urge. She glances towards the gaudy 'gentleman'.  _I didn't catch his name earlier._ "Amira, your existence in itself...it's not something that can be  _explained_ with-with-" she tries. "With just a few words, dear. You are something much, much more than that." she says. "Do you remember...when I told you, you weren't human?" she asked. I nod, hesitantly. "From the moment you were born-no, perhaps even before that," she begins. "You were meant to be an existence that nothing,  _no one_ -mundane nor magical-can ever hope to comprehend." she says. "You  _are_  an existence that I can't even begin to try and explain." she says, giving a moments pause.  _I clench my jaw._

"You  _are_..." she starts. "Mysterious." she says. I  _said_ I would listen. "What you are meant to be, works in mysterious ways." she frowns.  _Mysterious ways. Like what they say...about God._ "Only you can understand when you reach a certain point, Amira."  _"So what about Mom?"_ I ask, looking down. "The Mother you know is a sexless, omnipotent being; by mundane societal standards-"  _"God?"_ I spit out. "Yes, dear."  _"Why did Mom choose dad?"_ I wonder out loud. "Your 'Mother' chose not just your father, but your biological mother as well." she explains.  _What? You mean...Mom isn't Mom?_ "Both of your parents, biologically, were human-not a speck of magic in their veins." she informs.  _Mom wasn't Mom._

"You were created out of a union between chosen lovers,"  _I could feel my heart drop._ "With the aid of very powerful divine intervention, dear." she explains.  _I felt betrayed._ "And thus, you  _are,_ "  _No._  Freezing cold. "And quite frankly have the ability..."  _Something heavy._ Tears. "To become God."  _I tense up._ She remains silent.  _Looking at me with pity._ His expression stoic.  _I couldn't tell if it was true._

_I couldn't control it._

So I ran away, crying.

_Someone...please..._

* * *

I watched her run past me, and as she exited the room, I drop my stoic façade.  _I could still feel it; her timid Voice and everything inside of her that rang out. Confusion, anger, betrayal, sorrow, helplessness, anxiety, insecurity._ She was utterly unprepared for the truth. I felt pity for her.  _But it had to be done._ She was the only one known to exist...to be a candidate.  _"If we could have given her a Choice..."_ I could hear scorn in Petunia's voice towards the Laws.

"I know, Petunia. We all would have." I tell her, before turning to leave, myself.

* * *

_Suddenly, in the darkness, I could feel a pull. Confusion, anxiety...I come to a sudden realization. My Princess...she was betrayed._ The Slaves Mark awoke me from my healing slumber.  _Enraged._

**_Whoever made my Princess feel this way so strongly..._ **

_I grab the brightest magic carrier near me, ignoring his pleas for mercy._

**_...I will fucking hunt them down..._ **

_I hunt. I hunt mindlessly, for my Princess desperately needed me-for I needed magic to get to her._

**_...and shred them beyond recognition._ **

_I devour mercilessly, for I cannot reach her soon enough._  And after I've devoured every bastard in the room, I rip open a pathway to my Princess.  _My Mistress._

* * *

As I was rounding the corner, I heard the conference room door slam shut. I stop my steps, confused.  _The only one with the key..._ I widen my eyes. "Miss Fatima." I hurry around the corner, and as I open the door to check on her, I feel fear pool in my stomach at the sight.  _A severely injured demonic being was hunched over her unconscious form._

 _"You."_ I hear his garbled voice, as he bends backwards to look at me- _Damien Ramsey-_ I am able to identify him, as I reach for my wand.  _What in the bloody hell-_

 _"She...is...crying...!"_ I suddenly find myself flat on the ceiling, unable to move.  _His distorted face, though upside down, dangerously close to mine. "...you...do...?"_ he croaks, running his long claw along my nose.

 _ **"What did you do?!"**_ he yells out beyond his broken jaw, unleashing an intimidating wave of powerful magic, I close my eyes shut.  _Something has made him feral._ I was in a cold sweat.  _I wasn't equipped to fight something of this magnitude._ Try as I might,  _I couldn't utter a single word._

 _I hear a grotesque crack and a crunch coming from him, then a nearby whimper. That had come from Miss Fatima._ ** _"Tell me now, human. And do not lie. You were the last one with her."_** _I hear him; his voice was different._ Suddenly, I felt a stabbing pain in my arm, causing me to finally open my eyes and yell out.  _His jaw was healed._ He was taking magic from Miss Fatima.  _He was grinning wickedly. **"Very well."** his voice became sickeningly sweet. _I was unable to fight back.

_He raised his clawed hand to stab me dead, but then he suddenly halted. **"No. I was wrong."** He tilts his head, that grin still plastered on his face.  **"I'll leave you as a snack."**_

_And suddenly, all I could see was white, all I could feel was agony, then all was dark._

* * *

I had come because Petunia had felt a demonic being forcefully enter her Tower; a very enraged one.  _And if it was enraged-then perhaps I could keep it busy enough to buy time to seal it._

The moment I entered the space separated from the rest of the Tower, I saw my son on the ceiling.  _And the demon-_

**_..._ **

_I widen my eyes at his chanting Voice._ _'Mistress. Mistress.'_ An enslavement curse was evident within his mind.  _And oddly enough, he was not enraged because of this curse._ I notice him raise his clawed hand to strike my son, then pause.

**_..._ **

_He was lashing out because his beloved Mistress was hurt by someone._ And evidently- _I clench my jaw as the metal poles from the shelves impale my son-_ I was the one to hurt her. I vaguely notice a familiar silver ball of hair curled up in the corner as the demon lunged towards me from his place on the ceiling, coming to an epiphany.  _He's misunderstanding._ I clack my cane-my catalyst for magic-onto the floor casting Mind Wall on myself.

 ** _Halt._** _I summon my Voice._ He lands on the floor gracefully, obviously fighting against my Forbidden Art.

 _ **You misunderstand, demon.**  I try to communicate with him. _He does not answer. He merely growls and gnashes at me.  _He will stop at nothing to defend her._ Within his mind, I feel magic building up.  _He is going as far as to devour her magic,_ I realize.

 _ **You would slowly drain the very being you wish to protect?**_ His face shows confusion, then realization.  _Then he became terrified._ Still under my command, he tries to wriggle free-to release the leeching curse he'd placed on her in his blind rage.

_**...** _

He began to panic.  _'I can't move...! I can't save her!'_ _His Voice...felt pure, and true._

 _ **You will not attack unless either she or yourself are under physical or magical harm's way.** I make a deal with him. 'Yes.' _He tries still to break free.  _With every fiber of his being..._

 ** _And you will not devour magic unless given, even in this event._** _He had wanted to protect her. 'Yes. Please!'_ I saw tears, his feral form melting away into his normal one.

_**You will also release your victim. Under this agreement, I will set you free.** _

_"I understand! Just...let me save her!"_ he begged. "Very well." I release him from my command. He rushes towards his Mistress, Miss Fatima, releasing the leeching curse. The metal poles teleport out of and away from Hieronymous, his unconscious form floating from the ceiling towards the ground, and not a moment later Petunia arrives. "Although not tame, he is calm, now." I tell her. "It would be wise to give him his room with his Mistress-he may still be high from becoming feral." I warn her. "He won't lash out unless we get too close." I explain. "Feral? Wait- _Mistress?_ " she asks, confused upon looking at the scene. "I will explain my findings after my son's safety is guaranteed." I frown. She sighs. "Very well." she concedes and teleports the three of us out.

* * *

_Mom wasn't Mom. The Mom who I felt sometimes wasn't the Mom who loved me._ My heart hurts.  _I'm so confused._ Who was Mom?  _The woman who apparently decided to fucking die, leaving me and Dad behind?_ I don't know.  _Was she some sort of fucking God that decided to forsake her own fucking child?_ My head hurts.  _Or was she that fucking drunkard all along, and my Dad just made up stories for poor little old fucking me?_

_Why did I even endure all of that abuse I went through?_

_Was I just hoping, and fucking praying, that my 'real' Mom would come and help me all along?_

_I can't help but to vividly remember my earliest memory._  And it felt terrifying, painfully, and absolutely real.  _As if it were all happening again._

"I'm your mother, ain't I? Do what the hell I tell you to do, you little fuckwad." she sneers at me. I cower, shaking my head. She grabs my arm, "No! Let me go!" I yell. "Stop misbehaving, brat!" she swings her glass bottle at me. It shatters midair, it's shards spraying around me, missing me completely-the liquid inside splattering all over me.  _It sparkled-the liquid._

_It never even occurred to me until now-why did the shards miss me completely? It was as if, something, or someone, were trying to protect me._

"Look at what the fuck you made me do! Waste a perfectly fine bottle of wine on the likes of you, little fucker!" she roars, continuing to drag me, angrily. I kick, I twist, I yell,  _I scream._ "Wash it off!" she starts the tub with nearly scalding hot water, full blast.  _And like the faucet, my tears were rolling down._ My five-year-old self ran to the door, but before I could get there, it was slammed shut. She notched the lock high above, where I couldn't reach it. "Stay put, hellion." she growls down at me.

 _Heat._ I whimper, traumatized at the steam coming from the tub.  _All I knew, was that she's gonna do it again._ "Strip." she demands, grabbing hold of me. In a last-ditch effort,  _I bite the bitch._

* * *

_Again. I feel her, how she feels betrayed._ But this time- _I reach out for her, shakily-_ I was the one who betrayed her.  _I took her magic. Her life force._ Gently, I wrap my arms around her, holding her close.  _She was pale._ I took it-until this point.  _I feel her whimper._

**_Fear._ **

_"No..."_ I feel my heart drop.  _She kicks._ "No..."  _She begins to fight._

_**I didn't mean it.** _

_Take it. My own life force. You can even take it all._ Because, my Princess...for my grievance, if this is what it takes for you to forgive me...

**_I'd gladly offer myself on a platter._ **

_"Please..."_ I beg, and she opens her mouth wide, locking her jaw on my shoulder.

* * *

_I bit, as hard as I could. But this time...I drew blood...?_

She screeches indignantly, and grabs tight hold of my hair. "You little bitch!" she forces my head into the water.  _It's too hot._  I scream into the water, feeling it go down my throat,  _it burns._ She pulls me back up.  _The blood was too hot._

"You know this is what you get for misbehaving, you demon!" she raises her voice through my coughing and gasping, and dunks my head again and again,  _all my senses dulling,_ my small body too weak to fight off a grown woman-long after I've passed out.

 _Every time, I'd wake up on the cold bathroom floor, alone._ I heard her laughing in the living room.  _Every time, to her complaining to her friends about how much trouble I am._ "I know, right." she agrees with the person on the other side of the phone.

 _Wait...blood?_ I realize belatedly.

Every time, only to fade back into peaceful oblivion- _but this wasn't the oblivion I knew-_ just to wake to another nightmare.

* * *

_My Princess wailed as she repeatedly locked her jaws onto me._ The pain was  _supposed_ to be pleasure.  _But my Princess was utterly terrified._ So I felt something new.

But she was taking my mana, my life force.  _Devouring it._

**_Good. If I can be of use..._ **

An unfamiliar, haunting darkness seeps into my vision.

 _"I'd...gladly..."_   _My voice gives, the darkness taking over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three consecutive chappies, and a nice cliffhanger! :D From this point on the story might start getting really different than the game. Maybe.


	18. Weather the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These monsters, so carefully; painstakingly hidden-rear their heads in even the most trivial of situations.  
> These tormentors which bring with them a vivid waking dream; chaining down their victim's conscious.  
> Forcing her; dragging her into immersion, every detail painfully real.  
> They couldn't be escaped in any manner. They couldn't be fought away, for they resided in her mind.  
> All she can do is endure every bout that comes and shackles her, dragging her into it's most vivid depths.  
> These painful memories keep her from going forward. And somewhere along the lines, she's just learned to 'accept' them all.  
> "Maybe I am...a monster."
> 
> No...not 'accept'. Merely Weather the Storm until it ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. Here's a chapter that may very well be considered offensive to the possible reader with childhood PTSD as this is not perfectly in tune with the actual disorder. I say this because I've only heard of it, watched/read fiction about it, and don't actually have it, myself.
> 
> I know it's a touchy subject so...you have been warned. :| But if you wholeheartedly feel like you won't, erm....get triggered...?...by it, then feel free to read. 
> 
> I do NOT own Magical Diary: Horse Hall or any of its characters. Amira Fatima, however, is mine.

_Fading._  Not into a peaceful darkness-but into a warm hue, huddled against a corner.  _The sunset's rays pouring in._  My eyes slowly opened,  _for some reason, I felt like I got a lot of strength back._ A largish blue, bat-like wing with a maroon shimmer.  _A length of familiar bright purple hair dangling over me._ Like a fucking Halloween decoration.  _And his torn and tattered Iris Academy uniform._ His mangled shoulder.  _Bitten beyond recognition._

I cover my mouth, shocked at the site.  _Slightly wet._ Flaky.  _My heart pounds._ I take my hands _-no-_ and see dried fucking  _blood._

 _I...did this?_ I open my mouth to scream, and nothing comes out.  _But tears do._ And the guilt.  _It fucking overflowed. His shoulder, the blood._ Even if I didn't like him, I had no  _right_ to do such a cruel fucking thing.

_And I begin to realize...what if...she was right?_

_'You fucking broke the neighbor kids jaw, and I had to fucking pay the fucking medical bill! Again!' I remember._ I sob.

 **_'You always hurt others! You fucking monster!'_ ** _In my tears, I see a hand coming towards me._

 **_Yeah..._ ** _I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing to be beaten._

_**Maybe I am...a monster, after all.** _

* * *

_Everything was peaceful. My Princess was in my arms, no longer afraid. No longer anxious, no longer helpless and confused._ But then suddenly,  _panic_ awoke me. The Slave's Mark reacted once more to her strong emotion.  _She needed comfort._ I open my eyes, head resting on the wall, my body in an awkward position meant to protect her. Through the blur I saw blood on her hands.  _My blood._ I felt a warm tear on my arm, and through the mark, insurmountable  _guilt._ Through the haze of exhaustion, I reach for her hand. She squeezed her eyes shut.  _Realization, then resignation._

 _ **Don't feel guilty, my Princess.** She looks up at me in confusion. _I laugh hoarsely.  _"I rather enjoyed it."_ I admit to her, lovingly, the pain from my shoulder slightly intoxicating.  _The seductive blood in my veins, my instinct running rampant through the haze._

 _Her stunning, roundish, almond-shaped ocean blue eyes wide, contrasting beautifully with her dainty, light, chocolate brown skin._ Her tears had stopped.  _I lean down slowly, caressing her small hands, holding her tight._ Her gorgeous flushed face.  _I could eat her up..._

_**Pure intoxication. Closer...** _

* * *

_**...** _

I look up at him, his dazed expression, feeling something  _forgiving_ coming from him.  _A few sparkles here and there._ _"I rather enjoyed it."_ I hear his tired, sultry voice. He leaned in, slowly, his arm that was around me...

_Whoa. Wait._

_...his fucking hand was going for my fucking boob._ I flush at the realization, everything in slow motion, and it suddenly clicked.  _He was much closer._ In our awkward position, all I could do, was grab his wrist to stop his wandering clawed hand with one hand and put my free hand over his mouth.  _He paused._ But before I could sigh in relief,  _he licked my fucking finger._ His purple hues glistening in fucking  _amusement_.

I shriek indignantly, opting instead to pull hard on his side-bang, effectively semi-tossing him away from me.

* * *

At a sudden shriek, then jolt from one side of my head,  _and the vague realization that the room was whirling,_ I immediately sober, reaching out to stop my fall with one arm, gaining a pleasing throb from my shoulder.  _And something fairly large, but small enough to encompass my palm-soft, somewhat firm, as well as slightly bouncy in the other hand._ I tweak my thumb, appraising the familiar feeling, and hear a gasp.  _Ooh...it seems...I've groped my Mistress._ Pride flows into me at this glorious achievement.

 _I wonder how she'll react?_ Many, many  _exciting_ events pass through my mind. Then, I find myself on the other side of the room.

**_Well, that ended abruptly._ **

I frown in disappointment at the sudden arrival of the Academy's Headmistress.

* * *

_His fucking hand-he._ I gasp at his gal to tweak his thumb  _over my fucking boob, completely fucking mortified._ At his smug-ass grin, I feel red seep into my vision.  _I kick his head._

 _But my kick doesn't hit._ Instead, he's all the way on the other side of the room. "Good evening, you two seem to have had a good rest!" I hear a very familiar sing-song voice.  _Professor Potsdam._ "I've come to retrieve the two of you  _lovebirds_  to bring you back to your respective rooms." she smiles sweetly, a sparkle in her eyes.  _I shiver in disgust at that._ I could fucking feel it in her voice.  _She knew what happened. And she didn't-_

"Toodalooo!" she sings, and suddenly I find myself on my bed in my room.  _"...intervene."_ I voice out loud, surprised by being suddenly teleported by someone else.  _I clench my sheet and notice the dry blood wasn't there anymore._ I reach up, wiping my face, and nothing comes off.  _Which means she used magic to clean me._ I pat myself down, then rest my arms.  _And the demons invade me._

**_'You always hurt others!'_ **

_Again, I clench my sheet._

**_'You fucking monster!'_ **

_I squeeze my eyes tightly._

My room was empty.

_Just...do what you always do, Amira._

I open my eyes to look out the window, looking back on the day's events, just  _registering_ everything...

_Get through this._

...one at a time. 

_Take it slowly as usual._

I lay down on my side, tears welling in my eyes.

_And then...keep moving forward._

* * *

"Alright, now with her back in her room..." I smile, looking over to Mister Ramsey. "I hear you attacked your rescuers this morning?" I ask. He tenses. "You have also damaged my barrier, attacked this Tower's personnel, as well as  _drain_ and sexually harass a certain,  _special_  young student, mister cambion." I listed off,  _purposefully leaving him like this for awhile, allowing the knowledge that he'd broken quite a few rules to sink into his brain._ "I know this is well into the instinct of your  _species_ but since you are considered invasive...I would need to lock you back up, impudent whelp." I warn him, taking on my Supreme Judge persona, and he visibly cringes.  _He was young. It would be hard for me to let him go, but...the Law is the Law._

I then smile. But with my newfound knowledge, there _is_ a way around this misfortune.  _"However,"_ I sing, clapping thrice. "With the knowledge that you are no longer of your own person under the Slave's Mark under accidental means..." I trail.  _He looks up to me with ever-so slight hope._ "...officially nullifies all of your wrongdoings. I am Miss Fatima's Guardian Witch, you see-and she, as an Oracle Candidate accidentally cursed you with the Slave's Mark." I tell him the story. "And as an Oracle Candidate, she can bypass the Law of punishment for such an  _accident,_ " I stress. "Therefore keeping her belonging as I deem him a worthy servitor, and hence furthering her stay here at Iris Academy!" I sing happily. "So, thus forth, Mister Damien Ramsey..." I grin slyly at him. "You are, under the Law and the command of the Supreme Judge, to serve and protect Amira Oraculum Fatima with your  _life_  if need be, as a Combat Slave  _in name only_ , if ever I, her Guardian Witch, become incapacitated by means other than  _you._ " I tell him his duties, knowing his  _kink_ he's tried so hard to hide.  _Though not from my seasoned eyes._   _"On the event the latter should happen, you are to die in the cage where you belong."_ I sneer purposefully at him, and he shudders.

"Now that you have been informed of your duty, I will follow-up with you tomorrow, Mister Ramsey." I tell him. "Cheerio!" I wave my wand, and my Tower's magic teleports him to his new room.

 _Now, then._ Back to preparations for this Thanksgiving's _..._ _festivities._ I giggle happily to myself, before teleporting back to tend to Hieronymous, to begin interlocking the House of Montague with Iris Academy through a magic tunnel, and finalizing the Court deeds for doing so.

* * *

I wake up Monday morning.  _I fell asleep._ Before I can start to even think about yesterday, all the freshmen were called together to the gymnasium. I expected to see Professor Potsdam up on the podium- _much like everyone else here-_ but there was nobody there.  _The gymnasium was full of confused chattering._ I was confused, too. After a minute or two, Professor Potsdam finally comes up to the stage, and everybody suddenly falls silent as she reaches the microphone. "Good morning, buttercups!" she sings. "The Thanksgiving break begins this week after classes on Tuesday." she informs. "There will be no further scheduled activities until Monday, the second of December." she informs. "If you are staying through the break, the library will be open and meals will be served at the regular times, as well as the feast on Thursday and some organized activities." she explains,  _oddly_ and  _eerily_ cheerier than she usually is.  _Which means she's fucking planning something._ "If you are leaving, and you need to leave before tomorrow evening and you haven't already made arrangements, please talk to me after assembly." she instructs.

"Now. There is one more thing." her voice gets heavy. "For those of you who are wildseed, if you are leaving, this will be your first time away from the comfort and protection of Iris Academy." she begins. "You are witches and wizards, and the people around you, out there, are not." she says sadly. "The Choice that you made three years ago still stands."  _This is some sort of warning._ "You must not reveal our secrets to the outside world." she says. "You must not discuss or display magic in front of anyone who is not one of us." she instructs. "Not your old friends." she says. "Not your families." she prods her necklace. "No one." she says, firmly. "If you betray our trust, you will not be allowed to return." she says. Some start whispering. "And we would miss you." she says, making the whispers halt.

She suddenly claps twice. "Now! I'm sure you have a busy week ahead of you, so I'll let you get on with your schedules." she sings. Everyone starts to file out. As I make my way out as well, someone grabs my arm. I look to see who it was-Minnie. "Hi Amira!" she smile, letting go. "Thanks for covering me on Saturday. Professor Grabiner said you did a great job." she says.  _My mind goes numb, and I barely take in what she said next. "But he's been missing since yesterday..."_ she trails in a whisper.  _"Oh well."_ she shrugs. "Anyway, he said you worked hard and raise a lot of money for the class tribute." she says. "I wasn't sure he'd tell you himself so I thought I should carry the message." she gives a small smile. "Anyway, I've got to go sort out my schedule, so bye!" she says, chipper, before skipping off.

Shakily, I pencil in today as a rest day- _Minnie said that Professor Grabiner was missing._ I hover over Red Magic Class.  _Maybe he just took an early leave for the Thanksgiving Break._ Then I remember, my face flushing.  _She had said that_ _Professor Grabiner praised me._ I can't help the smile.  _My fucking crush fucking praised my efforts._ I move the pencil down to Black Magic Class, then White Magic Class, my eyes still glued to Red Magic Class.  _If he's still here, I don't think my heart would take seeing him after hearing that._

I hurriedly pencil in rest for today, and gym for Tuesday. I spend today on my bed suffocating myself with my pillow, lost in  _Professor Grabiner._

 _He praised my effort. My hard work._ I felt like goo, melting into my bedding in a giggling, high mess.  _Even though it's just that one tiny thing..._

 _...maybe, just maybe, he noticed me._ I squeeze my pillow with a happy squeal, earning an odd look from my roommates.  _But I couldn't bring myself to give a fuck._

On Tuesday I purposefully head to Gym early.  _I even break my personal record, huffing and puffing like an idiot._ Thankfully the others brushed my red face off as being out of breath.  _I was still really, really happy that he praised me._ Later in the day, everyone was summoned to the gymnasium. I was one of the first few there because I did track today.

Eventually, Professor Potsdam comes onto the stage, all the students chattering to each other. She clears her throat, silencing them. "If I may have your attention, please?" she calls. "Take hold of each other's hands and close your eyes." she instructs. Ellen, Virginia, and I as well as everyone else do as told. "We give thanks to the parents who created us and the friends who helped us grow." Professor Potsdam says. "To the Earth which nurtures us," I squeeze their hands because of a memory.  _I remember Dad used to say that._ I shut him out. "And the Otherworld which inspires us."  _I was still upset with him._ "For what we have been given, and for what we have to give." she says. "For those who have taken us in, when we were in need." she continues. "For forgiveness, and for the hope of renewal." she says. "May our tributes bring joy, and may no call go unanswered in this Thanksgiving season." she says. "So may it be." she finishes, and the girls' hands release mine-the students echoing her voice. "Have a very happy holiday!" Professor Potsdam sings. Everyone files out of the gymnasium-the majority of the assholes fucking  _chipper._

_Which completely ruined my fucking mood._

I take my fucking time getting out because I'm a part of the staying-here group. Sometime later, I get back to the room-Virginia's already gone, and Ellen's excused herself to go to the library, leaving me alone. After awhile, I hear a knock on the door. "Who is it?" I call out. "Professor Potsdam, dearie." I hear. I groan, before getting up to open the door. "I've noticed your still here?" she starts up the moment I do. I wrinkle my nose. "Why don't you go home for-" "Because I don't want to." I say angrily, in a hushed voice, clenching my uniform. A few moments pass and Professor Potsdam frowns. "Well, I won't push you to do something you don't wish to do." she says, sounding down. "Enjoy your stay, dearie!" he tone turns chipper, and she heads off.

_The demons; the nightmares-they come back._

I head back to the track that day, and I do the only thing I knew how to do; _I run away._

* * *

_"Hey, sexy."_ I hear some fucking prettyboy wannabe  _who pays too much attention to his hair than the zits on his ugly mug_  catcall me. "Fuck off." I tell him and his groupies as they encroach in my fucking space, stopping me. "I said fuck off." I shake one off. "Oh, c'mon, babe. Wanna go to my place and get beer?"  _"No."_ I hiss. One laughs. "This one's a pretty feisty kitty." one laughs, reaching for me again. "Go away." I tell them.  _Another reaches for my boob._ I slap them away. "I'm fucking thirteen, you assholes." I tell them the truth. They all laugh, disbelieving. One even said,  _"Ha, the best rejection yet!"_ "Ha, yeah, she's pretty creative." another says.  _They don't believe me._

Suddenly from behind me one decided to  _grope my fucking ass._

**_I saw red. I heard pained grunts. A crack, a crunch...then nothing._ **

I woke the next morning to a slam, a bang, and some glass shattering.  _Oh no._

 _"Amira, you fucking little retard, get your fucking ass down here!"_ I hear her  _scream_ at the top of her fucking lungs. I hurry and get up, scared.  _ **"I'll fucking beat'cha!"**_ I run down the stairs to see my step-mothers drunk, livid form. "You fucking broke the neighbor kids jaw, and I had to fucking pay the fucking medical bill!" she screams, throwing her purse at me angrily.  ** _"Again!"_** _she yells, enraged._ She stomps up to me, and I fall backwards onto my ass terrified.  _What was she gonna do this time?_ I start to cry.  _"I didn't do it!"_ I yell and she grabs my hair, dragging me along somewhere.  _"You know, I'm getting **mighty** fuckin' tired of your pretty little fucking lies, bitch!"_

**_I didn't do it...!_ **

_She throws me downstairs into the basement._ _"I didn't do it!"_  I cry out after my fall.  _"I swear!"_ I try to crawl away as she stomps down the stairs, slamming the door locked behind her.  _"That kid knows you did, they know you did, I know you did,"_ she starts up angrily, grabbing me by my hair again.  _I try to grab at her. "Let me go!"_   ** _"Everybody in the whole fucking neighborhood knows!"_** she roars.  _I scream, helplessly._

 ** _"So it's fucking time for some fucking payback, bitch!"_** She slams my head on the cement, making me disorientated.  _She won't stop._   ** _"You always hurt others!"_** she roars again, giving me another slam.  _So I shut down instinctively._ ** _"You fucking monster!"_** _I stop fighting._ She releases me and kicks me hard.  _Again and again._   _ **"Bitch!"**_ _I stop screaming._ She stomps on me.  _"And stay down!"_ I hear her yell, stomping away.

**_I just...give up._ **

* * *

_"Amira?"_

I vaguely hear, and I jump, becoming acutely aware of my surroundings. I was in a small space,  _in my room, in my dorm._ At the foot of my bed, tucked in the cramped corner, hugging my knees. "Amira?" I hear, and I look up to see a worried Ellen peering at me. "Oh, um.." I try, wiping the dry tears away. "Just-" I choke, the tears coming back again. "Do you.." she hesitates. "..want to talk about it?" she asks. I lean closer to the corner, still hugging my knees, silently. "Okay. I mean, it's fine." she smiles sadly. She reaches for me. I wince, because during that moment, I felt  _her_ hand coming. To hurt me.  _Again._

Ellen withdraws. I hear rustling, and moments later, a blanket put on top of me. In my peripheral, I see her open her mouth to speak, but she eventually closes it, getting up, and moving on. I grasp the blanket closer.

 _You can't keep doing this, Amira._ I tell myself.

 _You promised you'd change._ I chastise myself.  _I could feel new tears coming in._ I fought them back. So, instead,

_Do what you always do, Amira..._

I tell myself,

_Let this do its damage...let it take its toll._

_**Fade into nothing.** _

_So you can weather it easier. Until its over._

**_And then...find a way to keep on moving forward._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with this out of the way; on a happier note, I can actually START Thanksgiving. :D


End file.
